


Anywhere, I would have followed you (Say Something)

by Indygodusk



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Attempted Sexual Assault, Coming of Age, Dark, F/M, Family Drama, Friendship, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Health Issues, Modeling, Romance, Sexual Harassment, Sexual Tension, Strong Female Characters, Terrorism, assisted suicide of elderly OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 145,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9808547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indygodusk/pseuds/Indygodusk
Summary: "Just because you care for something, doesn't mean you get to keep it."Lately, Marinette's luck has been failing her. No one's guessed her secret identity yet, but after Hawk Moth escalates his attacks, she decides it's time to finally tell Chat Noir. Unfortunately, it's not that easy. To make things worse, her home life is falling apart, college is looming, and she can't keep a boyfriend. Secretly, Marinette's not sure she even wants to be Ladybug anymore.Adrien's life isn't faring much better, especially after dark secrets about his mother come to light.Then the unthinkable happens. Afterwards, both Adrien and Marinette have to make their own luck. In the process, they defeat the bad guy and make their dreams come true (even if those dreams weren't what they thought they'd be).





	1. Fencing

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters or the universe of Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.
> 
> Warning: This will be romantic, slow-burn, angsty, dark, hurt-comfort, coming of age, with eventual happy ever after with exchange of identities and “I love yous”. Everyone is older (senior year of school). The title comes from the chorus of "Say Something" by A Great Big World. I hope you enjoy this a lot!

 

"Do you fence?" Chat Noir asked, sprawling back against the railing with his ankles lazily crossed. Considering how his heart pounded, he was rather proud with the nonchalant image he currently portrayed. If he turned around, he knew he’d see the Seine River transformed by the setting sun into glittering ribbons of gold, red, and violet. It probably looked like a postcard.

Chat didn’t care. It couldn’t compare to his current view. Vermilion and gold sunlight gilded the tips of Ladybug’s eyelashes and the curve of her cheeks, transforming them into a velvet nap that made his fingers twitch in yearning to touch. Twilight zephyrs brought out split-second sparks of bright red in her normally blue-black hair. She’d even left her hair down for once and the difference made her look more relaxed, mature, and exceptionally beautiful.

When Ladybug turned to respond to his question, an ebony strand of hair caught on the curve of her lower lip. He couldn’t help his spike of want or the way his breathing sped up. Yes, watching the sun-kissed slopes of her cheeks would win over a river every time. Chat tried to hide the way his eyes drank her in by keeping his eyes at a seemingly lazy half-mast, but he had a feeling that she could see right through him.

"I'm not really into swords," Ladybug answered with a mysterious half-smile as she stepped closer. The look she gave him next almost seemed sultry. His stomach flipped over in anticipation.

Then she ruined the effect by crossing her eyes, looking down her nose with annoyance, and trying to blow the hair off her mouth. It clung stubbornly. She twisted her mouth and blew again. Ladybug looked completely unselfconscious and absolutely adorable.

“Here, let me,” Chat chuckled softly. He couldn’t help but reach out with one gloved fingertip to carefully brush the hair off her lip. Red bloomed over her cheeks at his touch. Seeing his black gloves contrasted against her strawberry and cream complexion made him swallow hard. Chat desperately wished he could feel her skin to skin. Dropping his hand, he curled his fingers into a fist and tried to breathe normally.

Staring out at the river, Ladybug tilted her head and gave him a sideways look as she returned to his question. “Are you looking for a fencing partner?"

"Well, I mean, I do fencing and I thought, well, I thought we could train together as practice against Hawk Moth’s super villains or- or something… but if you don't want to, that's fine," Chat stuttered out awkwardly. What was wrong with him? Usually he didn't have problems smooth-talking. He tried to think of at least a good cat pun, but his mind came up blank.

Rubbing her lip thoughtfully with one, red-gloved finger, Ladybug seemingly came to a decision. Abruptly she dropped her hand to her hip and sashayed closer. She didn't stop until the tips of her toes rested on either side of his crossed black boots. Chat’s body tensed. This close, he could see the triangles of gray and marine that normally hid in her bright blue eyes. Golden clouds made glittering stars in her black pupils. He felt dazzled by her nearness, his normal confidence nowhere to be seen.

When she reached forward and flicked the bell at his throat, his mouth went dry. Chat cleared his throat unsteadily. Ladybug’s mouth curved in a self-satisfied smile.

"No swords," she murmured as her red gloved fingers walked up his throat to tap on his lower lip. Chat stopped breathing. "But I don't mind fencing with words." Her white teeth flashed as she grinned slyly. "We seem to be pretty good at doing… that. Together."

"Yeah," he breathed out shakily. His fingertips dug into the stone railing at his back in a desperate attempt to stop himself from picking her up plastering her flush against his body, that or kicking out his feet to trip her into falling on top of him. Chat wanted almost nothing in the world more than he wanted to be closer to the woman in front of him.

Of course, that didn’t mean much unless she also wanted to be there.

As if reading his mind, Ladybug dropped her arms, planting her hands on the slice of balcony between his torso and arms. In a testament to her core body strength, she effortlessly kept her body hovering just above his in a flat line. If he breathed just a little bit harder, they’d touch.

Then she breathed against his ear, "Or we could try fencing with something else." Her loose hair brushed against the side of his jaw, soft and sweet-smelling. He wanted to turn and bury his face in the strands, but she had him paralyzed.

"W-with what?" he asked hoarsely. Chat shivered as she responded by huffing a small laugh that pushed warm arm across his cheek. Her forearms shifted to press warmly against his sides. He felt the cloth of her mask glance across his temple. Then she pushed herself up until her face hovered mere inches from his lips. A tremor of want shook his body and her smile went sharp.

"Fencing with _tongues_ ," she pronounced naughtily, her mouth practically licking the syllables as they rolled from her mouth.

Chat’s control snapped. Arms surging up, he swung her around until he had her trapped between his body and the railing. Ladybug didn't bother struggling. Eyes glittering with delight and desire, she giggled, relaxing into his hold with a minxish look, as if this had been her plan all along.

"You tease," he hissed against her pink lips as his heart went wild.

Two small, warm hands cupped his face. "Not a tease when I really do want to pet and kiss you, mon petit chaton." Her bare fingers reached up and slid his mask off his face, tossing it into the molten river below. Adrien stopped breathing.

The saucy look on Ladybug’s face faded into one of extreme fondness. "You have to know how much I care about you. I’ve always cared about you. Oh Adrien, you know we’re meant to be. What’s coming is hard, but we’ll beat it together, as partners, both in and out of costume.” Her fingers brushed intimately against his skin as her hands smoothed down his jaw and back to caress his neck beneath the edges of his suit. “You just have to wake up.” Her thumbs slid up and down his throat, prompting him to breathe in and out with the motion.

“Wake up, Adrien. Adrien, Adrien…."

Sliding his hands down her waist and over the plush curve of her hips, he couldn't keep his eyes from slipping closed. He felt a strange mixture of sweet peace and hot anticipation at having her in his arms and hearing Ladybug finally say his real name. It was everything he'd ever wanted. It felt like belonging and home, but a home and security he hadn’t experienced in years. Savoring the feeling, Adrien lowered his mouth to finally taste her lips. He wanted to memorize every second of their first true kiss.

"Oh Adrien, Adrien, _Adrien_!" The voice unexpectedly morphed from feminine softness into a masculine snap.

" _Wake up, Adrien_!"

Jerking, his hands closed on pillow instead of feminine curves as he abruptly came awake in bed. Dawn light faintly illuminated his room and his father standing by his bed. Gabriel Agreste, dressed in a charcoal and lavender suit, loomed over his son unhappily. Adrien’s eyes flitted around his room. A black blur in the corner showed Plagg ducking down to hide.

But no red. No Ladybug. Disappointment crashed down on his chest like a vice.

Of course Ladybug didn't want to kiss him, either side of him. Ladybug didn’t know he was Adrien and wouldn’t care if she did. It had only been a dream. He was a delusional fool.

Sitting up, Adrien rubbed his face briskly, forcing the wrenching disappointment away before looking up at his father. "Dad?" Then his mind caught up with the situation. "Wait, I haven't seen you in weeks, or is it even months at this point? What are you doing in my room _now_? At not even seven in the morning?"

Their last meeting had been tense. Adrien had just run in after fighting as Chat Noir and had been in a bad mood. When he’d been recharging from a Cataclysm attack, he’d tripped and his Miraculous ring had fallen off (again) and rolled beneath a dumpster. The cursed ring seemed to fall off two or three times a year, and always during a battle.

Then he’d had to listen to Plagg’s relentless mocking about thin fingers and clumsiness as he got on his belly to retrieve it, all the while trying to ignore the stench of garbage and the feel of things squishing and soaking through his clothes. Plagg had even started calling out insulting limericks until Adrien finally gotten the ring back on his finger. If he heard one more rhyme about, ‘ _Adrien and Chat, their fingers aren’t fat_ ,’ he’d threatened to take Plagg to a veterinarian to get his mutant cat neutered.

Chat finally rejoined the battle, but by that time Ladybug had already defeated the villain all by herself. Needless to say, by the time he got home, he hadn’t been in a mood for conversational gymnastics with his father. As usual, he father didn’t care about Adrien’s wants.

“I’m going to be out of touch for a while, Adrien. Nathalie will keep you on track while I’m gone. Don’t forget that you’re going to be the face of Agreste’s new jewelry campaign. Nathalie will inform you when they decide on a date for the photoshoot. I’m not involved beyond approving you for it, so I’m counting on you to be professional and make a good impression.”

“Yes, Sir,” Adrien answered, desperate to shower off the stench of the alleyway and trying to keep his distance so his father didn’t notice and ask questions.

“Since you’ll be representing our jewelry line, make sure to be careful what accessories you wear out in public from now on,” his father added. Then his eyes narrowed and became cold. “You’re still wearing that silver ring, I see. Where did you get it again?”

Fighting not to fidget nervously, Adrien lied, “I’ve had it so long I don’t even remember. I probably picked it up during some shopping excursion with Chloe.”

“Hmm,” lips thinning, his father answered him skeptically. “Whatever the case, I may be out of sight, but I don’t want you to take that as carte blanche to ignore your schedule and the time tables set up for you. Your schedule and bodyguard are there for a reason.”

As the conversation went on, his father kept flicking increasingly unnerving little glances at the Miraculous ring on Adrien’s hand. Adrien met Plagg’s uneasy gaze behind his father’s back and then thumbed the ring off into his pocket. His father had become more and more short-tempered and suspicious, asking more forcefully than usual about where Adrien kept disappearing to and blatantly showing skepticism of his answers.

When the conversation came back around to jewelry again, his father started making noises about confiscating all of Adrien’s accessories to make sure they were appropriate for the face of the Agreste fashion brand. A bead of cold sweat trickled down Adrien’s spine. The ring felt unusually heavy in his pocket.

Then his father thrust his hand in Adrien’s face and snapped coldly, “Give me the ring, Adrien.”

“What? No,” Adrien refused, taking a step back.

“Now,” his father demanded with a terrifying glint in his eye as he dropped his gaze to Adrien’s pocket and advanced.

All of a sudden, Plagg flew up into the air behind his father’s back. His matte back body glowed like a star. Plagg then performed some strange gymnastic routine that left red afterimages of mystical runes on the back of Adrien’s eyelids. Then all of the energy and fire abruptly left the kwami. His body dropped out of the air like a rock. Landing on the desk with a thump, he rolled off sluggishly into an overturned bag of cheese with a loud rustle.

Head snapping up, his father started to turn.

Then Adrien had a stroke of pure luck.

His father’s phone rang. Seconds later, Adrien’s phone chirped with a scheduling reminder. Then Nathalie appeared in the open doorway with a quiet, “Mr. Agreste?” Producing a frustrated and disappointed sigh for his son, the great Gabriel Agreste had left.

Plagg had been too busy stuffing his face to answer questions about what he’d done. Then Plagg had fallen asleep. Every time after that Adrien thought to ask about it, something interrupted. He still didn’t know what Plagg had done.

Since that day, Adrien had only communicated with his father through texts, emails, and orders relayed through Nathalie. Adrien knew intellectually that his father loved him, but sometimes he felt more like an expensive curio his father occasionally found a use for than a son he wanted a relationship with. Other families didn’t act like this, but other families didn’t have mothers who disappeared unexpectedly either. His father was the only family he had left. Adrien had to take what he could get.

Returning to the present, Adrien blinked. “Is something wrong?” he asked hesitantly. Then he looked more carefully at his father and seriously began to worry. Although the man was already dressed for the day in his normal three-piece suit, he'd misbuttoned his vest. His hair also looked damp and had a wave, as if he'd just stepped from the shower without styling it dry or applying his usual hair cream.  Adrien had never, in eighteen years as his son, seen him look less than perfectly immaculate.

Bare chest prickling with goosebumps, Adrien asked again with rising fear, "Dad?" He reached out to touch his father’s hand. Between their bodies lay a shaft of predawn light from a crack in the curtains. When Adrien’s hand crossed the beam, his silver Miraculous ring shone for a second like a full moon.

His father looked down at the ring. Lips parting on a soft gasp, his eyes narrowed. Then he leaned forward with what Adrien could only describe as menace.

Suddenly, Adrien felt strange. Time became thick. Adrien’s fingers, on their way to brush his father’s hand, slowed as if moving through dark molasses. It felt as if his ears needed to pop at the heavy pressure. The air became almost too dense. Adrien couldn't breathe.

Something unnerving swam up behind his father's eyes, something ravenous, bleak, and cruel. Instinctively Adrien snatched his fingers back, fighting through the pressure to clench them in a fist by his side. The ring's gleam disappeared into the shadows of his duvet. Adrien sucked in air, with a ragged gasp. Only after the rush of oxygen did he realize that the pressure had lifted, gone as mysteriously as it had arrived.

His father took an unsteady step back, face gone slack. Then he shook his head sharply. Folding his arms, he focused back on his son. "Adrien, have you been keeping up with your swimming lessons?" He had a strange, thin tone to his voice that Adrien had never heard before.

Completely nonplussed, Adrien blinked up at his father and clenched his hand into the sheets, winding the fabric around his fingers. "What lessons? I haven't had swimming lessons since that refresher course you insisted on right after mo-,” he barely cut himself off before mentioning his mother, knowing that his father neither tolerated nor reacted well to any reference of her disappearance, “I mean, a few months before I started going to public school. My personal trainer has me swim laps and doing sprints in a pool every other month, but-"

"No, never mind," his father cut him off, smoothing a hand over his hair and looking away. “Are you healthy?”

“Yes,” Adrien answered slowly, unsure where these questions were leading.

Nodding sharply, his father turned to examine his desk. “What about your educational plans?”

“I’m still waiting to hear back from the colleges I applied to,” Adrien replied carefully. “I’ll make sure to keep you informed once I know who has accepted me.”

His father scoffed. “You’re an Agreste. You’re attractive, intelligent, and wealthy. No one would dare refuse to take my son.”

Adrien didn’t know how to answer that, so he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t think his father would appreciate the fact that Adrien was hoping that college would give him the chance to get out of his father’s shadow. His mother had once said that college had been the best time of her life because she could finally learn things and meet people for herself instead of just for her family. Adrien wanted that too. If she were still around, Adrien liked to think that she’d support his secret plans.

“We also need to discuss your major,” his father added insistently. “I have a few ideas of useful majors for you, but nothing too strenuous, nothing that might tax your mind unnecessarily.”

 _What was that supposed to mean?_ Adrien bit his tongue hard to keep his opinions about it all bottled up in his chest.

When his father kept looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer, Adrien choked out another, “Yes, Sir.” It wasn’t worth fighting that battle right now. Once away at college, hopefully one that mandated that first-years live in on-campus housing, he’d worry about it.

Nodding sharply, his father turned on his heel and strode to the door. However, he stopped with one hand on the frame, face still turned away. “Adrien?”

“Yes, Sir?”

His father stood silently silhouetted in the doorway, his shoulders high and tense. Then he spoke. “Everything I do, I do for you, for our family. I couldn’t bear to lose you, too. I love you, my son.”

Before Adrien could reply, his father stepped out into the hall and firmly closed the door. Tears stung Adrien’s eyes, a pain that matched the ache in his chest. He loved his father, but thinking too hard about their relationship just made him miserable. Pressing a hand hard over his eyes, he tried to push back the tears. Crying never did anything but give him a headache.

After the strange encounter with his father, Adrien knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, despite it being the weekend. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood up and went to the closet. Adrien grabbed the first shirt he saw to cover his bare chest from the morning chill. Then he went to his desk and pulled over the nearest schoolbook.

Over the next couple of hours, he plowed through his weekend homework. By the time he finished, it was the time he normally went downstairs for breakfast on the weekends. Adrien didn't have much of an appetite today. Nevertheless, he finished getting dressed and went downstairs. He knew what was expected of him as Adrien Agreste. As always, those expectations never catered to his personal feelings or desires.

As he ate, Nathalie came in to remind him of the schedule. Adrien nodded where appropriate. Then his mind drifted to his strange encounter with his father that morning and he found himself interrupting her. "Nathalie? Have you noticed anything wrong with my father lately?"

Nathalie blinked rapidly behind her glasses. Her eyebrows flicked up for a moment before narrowing back down. "Why do you ask?"

Meeting her gaze steadily, he pressed, "I talked to him this morning for the first time in forever and he seemed… _off_ , you know, stressed. Have you talked to him lately?"

Looking away, she pushed her glasses up her nose and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. However, her face otherwise remained smooth. "As one of his assistants, I talk to him regularly. I'm sure if there is a problem you need to know about, he will tell you. Is there anything else? Or are you ready to finish hearing about your schedule?"

Frustration slid down his throat bitterly. Adrien could tell that she knew something, but she wouldn't tell him. Why did his father make it so hard to care about him?

Nathalie's loyalties always lay with his father first and her own opaque agenda second. Despite speaking with him almost daily for years, she held no special fondness for him. Sometimes he could move her to pity or outmaneuver her, but he could never force her to speak when she didn't want to.

"Fine," he gave in wearily.

Nathalie’s tense shoulders loosened just a fraction as she resumed. After going over the upcoming week’s schedule, she finished with, "Your two biggest time commitments are the fencing tournament this afternoon and the photo shoot for the new Agreste jewelry line next month."

A hot flush spread across his cheeks as he remembered his dream about Ladybug and _fencing_. He’d certainly rather fence with _her_ than with his usual competitors, even if it only involved foils. Before Nathalie noticed his inattention, he wrenched his mind back to his schedule. He tried to console himself with thoughts of seeing the new female fencing star of the junior team in action, the one everyone had been talking about, but it didn’t really work. He still felt too warm.

Returning to his room after breakfast, Adrien wondered if he could recapture his dream and get that kiss if he tried for a nap. Before he could make up his mind, his phone chimed with a news alert. Sighing regretfully, he pulled it out.

“What’s up?” Plagg asked from over his shoulder.

“Looks like a super villain attack. Hopefully we can take care of it before we’re supposed to leave for the tournament. I don’t think my father will take well to a report of my absence after this morning,” Adrien said.

"Just don't forget my extra cheese," Plagg prompted as he flopped out onto the desk. "You barely fed me at all this morning. That weird talk with your father made you all distracted and broody. Don’t forget the cheese!"

"I know, Plagg," Adrien huffed at the kwami, rolling his eyes.

The small black creature gave him a sideways look, "At least you'll get to see Ladybug today, though she’ll probably be late again. But late Ladybug is better than no Ladybug, right? Maybe that'll cheer you up and make you more generous."

"She promised to try harder to be on time, so… yeah," Adrien breathed, focusing more on his Ladybug dream than the topic of conversation. The corners of his mouth tipped up in a dreamy smile and his eyes went unfocused.

The low chime of another news alert broke him from his stupor, though it couldn't completely banish his smile. After making sure to pack his pockets with extra cheese, a hard-earned lesson from three years of battles and Plagg’s ceaseless nagging, Adrien held out his ring and called, "Plagg, claws out!"

An hour later, thoughts of Ladybug no longer had him grinning. In fact, they did nothing but make him scowl. In between dodging attacks, that is. She was late again, _very late_ , despite her promises.

In the last few months, she’d made it a habit to show up later and later to fights. She’d even tried to claim it was just bad luck, as if Ladybug, the embodiment of good luck, would suffer from such a thing. How someone so amazing could also be so aggravating escaped him. No one else ever made him feel such strong swings of emotion. Ladybug was just special like that. She always seemed sorry and surprised by her own tardiness afterwards, but that didn't stop her from doing it again. Their opponents hadn't been that difficult lately, so he hadn't bothered pushing it beyond the occasionally voicing of his disappointment and frustration.

Dodging a sharp stake right before it thunked into his heart, Chat really regretted not being more firm. Sweat rolled down his face and stung in the small slices caused by his opponent's needle-like pencil shavings. Broken trees crisscrossed the street along with crushed cars filled with crumpled bits of paper. Everything around this lady was getting destroyed.

Chat Noir had never fought a super villain this vicious before. Even with his suit, her attacks hurt. He needed Ladybug to get here. _Soon_.

Lungs heaving, he succeeded in tripping the villain with his baton, only for her to unexpectedly catch his ankle and send him down to the ground next to her. He tried to roll away from the metal pencil sharpener swinging towards his face, but he wasn't going to make it. Chat braced himself for a broken nose or worse.

Just before the weapon hit, a ladybug patterned yoyo wrapped around the swinging arm and yanked the villain away. She screamed in rage as Ladybug flung her into the air and on trajectory to land in the Seine river. Dropping his head down to the ground, he let himself just breathe for a moment before dragging himself up to his feet.

Seconds later, a small woman with the body of a gymnast covered in a red leotard with black spots dropped down by his side. "Ladybug," he panted, "nice of you to _finally_ show up."

Wincing, she spun her yoyo in front of them in a defensive shield. "Are you alright? I'm so sorry I took so long. I thought I’d get here on time, but I was in the middle of-" Chat felt his lips thin with displeasure as she started with her usual vague excuses. He had to sneak away too, but you didn’t see him showing up almost an hour late. Seeing his flat expression, her words trailed off.

"Alright, I’m sorry," she began again in a much smaller voice. "What do I need to know to help?" Remorse and determination shone from her big, blue eyes.

Chat’s anger dissolved like sugar in hot tea. Sighing, he brushed the back of his fingers down Ladybugs arm in forgiveness. Chat could never stay mad at his partner for long. Gesturing at their opponent, he summed up what he knew.

Unlike other super villains, Pencil Pusher didn’t seem upset at a specific person or institution. She just wanted to revenge herself on the permanence of pens and steal Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous. Yet somehow, every living thing, whether plant, animal, or person, became a target for her to destroy, as if life itself offended her.

Everything she hit with her pencil gun became a crumpled scrap of paper. Additionally, her other attacks left a swathe of physical destruction in her wake like a shrapnel bomb. Pencil Pusher threw both dart- and spear-sized pencils with sharp tips, paper airplanes with razor-sharp folds, and erasers harder than rocks. The constant barrage had damaged buildings, broken windows, and knocked dangerous debris onto pedestrians. So far, everyone had either managed to take cover or been turned into scraps of paper, but Chat feared that soon the attacks were going to start sending people to the hospital.

"Ladybug, nice of you to _finally_ show up," the sopping wet super villain interrupted unconsciously echoing Chat’s words and causing Ladybug to flinch. "As Pencil Pusher, I'm taking your Miraculouses for Hawk Moth. Now!" Then she picked up a large, broken tree like it weighed nothing and quickly flung it at them.

Chat Noir and Ladybug sprang back as the tree crashed down at their feet. Looking around, Chat cursed inwardly as he saw that Pencil Pusher had trapped them between the tree, a broken down car, and the side of a building.

Then his stomach dropped as he saw another tree falling straight for them overhead. Rearing back, Ladybug frantically kicked at the car once, twice, but it only budged a few inches before rocking back into place. They couldn’t escape that way.

They were out of time.

"Under the car!" Ladybug ordered desperately, reaching to pull him down, but the space was too small. Even Ladybug's small frame probably wouldn’t fit, much less his larger one. He dodged her fingers and looked up.

"Cataclysm!" Chat Noir cried, jumping up and bouncing off the wall to get high enough into the air and at the right angle to touch the tree before it smashed into his partner. He had to protect her. Nothing else mattered.

Black destruction pooled in his palms. A hard branch banged into his hip painfully, twisting him midair away from his goal. Snarling, he arched, reaching back with blind desperation. Chat would protect his Lady. He would. Hissing fingertips caught and dragged across something rough seconds before he slammed hard against the ground.

White lightning sparked painfully through his skull. He couldn't catch his breath and his mouth tasted like sawdust. Black spots filled his eyes. Then familiar hands turned him over and began dragging him backwards by the armpits. Ladybug pulled him up and over something metal, probably the car, though he couldn't care past the desperate burning in his chest.

"Breathe, Chat!" Ladybug ordered through a cough of her own. "I've got you. Just breathe!"

Finally his body rebooted, allowing his diaphragm to stop spasming and drag in a desperate lungful of air. "There you go, now do it again," she ordered with clear relief as she kept dragging him. The skin of her jaw dragged across his face each time she spoke. He wished he could enjoy it more.

Chat opened streaming eyes just as Ladybug propped him up against a wall in a shadowed alleyway. A dumpster shielded them from the street. Hovering over him with worry, the light haloed Ladybug’s hair.  Sawdust from the tree he'd disintegrated with his Cataclysm covered her in white. Placing a hand lightly on his chest, Ladybug hovered over him protectively. She looked like an angel escaped from the ceiling of one of the cathedrals down the street.

Suddenly the Miraculous ring on his finger beeped, warning him that he'd used up all of his power and would transform back soon. Ladybug’s hand spasmed on his chest. Startled from his revere, Chat once more noticed the strain in his lungs and coughed. Her frown deepened. "I'm fine, LB," he gasped. He didn't want her to worry.

Sliding her hands up to cradle his jaw, she tipped his chin up with her fingers and examined his face carefully. "You hit the ground pretty hard. Are you sure?" Her gloved fingers moved gently over his hair and then swept back across his face, brushing away splinters and sawdust. He trustingly closed his eyes. Unwittingly his hands came up to rest on the curve of her hips. Her fingers stuttered on his skin, but didn't stop until they'd completed their task. 

Chat felt breathless for a reason that had nothing to do with hitting the ground. Opening his eyes, he looked up at Ladybug. A strange expression hovered behind her mask and dark eyelashes. He felt like he should be able to read it, but couldn't.

Before he could decide what to do about it, his ring beeped its warning again, followed by the electric whine of a pencil sharpener from the street. Ladybug surged to her feet and placed herself in front of him protectively. "You go take care of yourself and recharge. I'll keep her busy until you come back." Giving him a firm nod, she turned and ran around the dumpster and back out onto the street without waiting for his reply.

Seconds later he heard a triumphant cry from Pencil Pusher, followed by an angry screech. As the sound of battle faded into the distance, he sighed and released his transformation. Plagg plopped into being on his thigh and began moaning piteously. “Cheese, I need my cheese!” he gasped weakly.

“You’re such a drama queen,” Adrien rolled his eyes and reached into his pockets. “Here’s your cheese.”

The kwami stuffed a triangle into his mouth and chewed rapturously. “At least I don’t look like Casper the friendly sawdust ghost,” Plagg mocked mid-chew, exposing a disgusting blob of cheese. Used to the routine, Adrien merely wrinkled his nose, ignored the insult, and handed Plagg another wedge. As soon as he finished recharging, Adrien would transform into Chat Noir again. Then they’d team back up with Ladybug and get rid of Pencil Pusher for good.


	2. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Blood and mild violence

 

_Red_.

Running down the street, Chat saw red for a split-second in the corner of his eye. Chat Noir always noticed red. Red meant his Ladybug, usually in the form of her bright red costume.

As Ladybug’s partner, he’d learned to become hyper-focused when red blurred past. Not noticing could mean the difference between victory and defeat as they leapt across Paris together fighting Hawk Moth’s super villains. Sometimes, if he was really lucky, the flash of red would glisten from her laughing lips or flare from her blushing cheeks. Three years of familiarity made it easier to earn her smiles and harder to win her blushes, though that just made the blushes all the more precious.

Three years of being a friend and comrade in arms, but never making it over the wall she’d built to keep him from getting too close, never knowing her true identity. To this day he still didn’t understand why they couldn’t tell each other their names. All of her reasons hinged on pessimistic what-ifs and maybes. Was it really so bad to want to see the face behind the mask?

Nevertheless, he wouldn’t resort to trickery to find out. He respected Ladybug too much. Plus, his mother had taught him better than to force a woman to do anything, even just reveal a secret. Instead, he waited for the day Ladybug trusted him more than the voice of her fears. He waited for her to love him as much as he loved her.

Ladybug never seemed bothered by their status quo. Sometimes he wondered if she really was blind to the ache in his heart. His juvenile crush had seasoned into unwavering love and devotion to the woman in the Ladybug mask, but the intimacy he craved always hovered just out of reach. He’d summit one wall, only to discover an even larger one on the other side. 

Then again, she didn’t owe him her heart. He couldn’t force her to feel romantic love if she only felt friendly affection. He couldn’t force her to stop and really see through to the heart and soul of Adrien Agreste, couldn’t make her want it all when she seemed satisfied with just the partnership of her Chat. If partnership was all she wanted, was what she needed, then he’d be the best partner and friend she’d ever know.

Yet sometimes, in moments of quiet repose or most desperate battle, she’d quirk her lips, furrow her brow, and send him a look that practically seared with intensity. He’d never been able to decipher it, but it gave him hope. He wished he knew what to say, how to find out what that look meant.

Hope hurt.

Ladybug always seemed in motion, rushing in late but extremely welcomed to a fight, swinging by his side across Paris, or sliding just out of reach of his romantic advances. She appeared to save the day and then ran off just as quickly. Even when they went patrolling, she rarely let herself come to rest for long before flitting off again. He wondered if the stress of their double life wore at her.

Bleeding off momentum by swinging around a light pole, Chat changed directions but continued his sprint. He’d seen the flash of red back by a small white church tucked into the shadow of a multi-story brick building. Turning failed to produce a Ladybug sighting. However, in the alleyway between the two buildings he finally found the red that had caught his attention.

A bloody handprint.

The blood grabbed his attention like a hand to the throat, stifling his breath and spiking his adrenalin. Chat darted into the alleyway with the handprint. The red blood stood out starkly on the white wall. It looked smeared, as if someone had staggered into the wall trying to catch their balance. Several more drops darkened ground.

Eyes searching frantically, he tried to ignore the panic bubbling in his gut. Chat still didn’t see his partner. Now that he was paying closer attention, he realized that he hadn’t seen anyone at all since he’d suited up again, just an eerily quiet section of streets completely devoid of people or trees, the only movement coming from large, windswept piles of wadded up paper. The piles of paper didn’t look natural, but, he remembered queasily, that’s because they _weren’t_. They were people who’d been turned into windswept trash by the blond super villain currently terrorizing Paris. 

_Where was Ladybug?_

Although Chat didn’t want to believe it possible, he couldn’t help noticing that the size of the bloody handprint matched his partner’s hand. He could even smell Ladybug’s familiar scent of raspberry macarons, rose, and linen, proving that she’d been here. He wouldn’t mistake her mélange. One of his favorite things about having enhanced senses when suited up as Chat Noir was wallowing in Ladybug’s scent. It was better than cat nip. He had a friend at school that must use a similar perfume, because he always had to catch himself from inhaling too deeply around her or else risk phasing out into daydreams during class, especially the last few months.

Now, though, the normally comforting aroma had become laced with the harsh tang of blood. The smell reached into his hindbrain and yanked demandingly, waking predatory instincts he usually kept repressed. Chat had to find her _now_.

The evidence all seemed to point to Ladybug being seriously injured, but it didn’t make sense. In three years of fighting, neither of them had ever been injured more than bruises and scrapes. Plus, the Miraculous Ladybug always healed physical and structural damage from fights with super villains, even if it didn’t fix injuries that happened outside of a fight. Their suits were tough, covered everything but their faces, and never ripped.

He’d feared for his life before, and that of his partner, but that fear had never included bloody wounds. Yet that handprint looked saturated in blood. _Could the magic even heal something that serious?_

This wasn’t normal. Then again, nothing about today could be called normal, not his father’s strange wakeup call and not this vicious fight. Chat had to accept the evidence: the bloody handprint belonged to his Lady. It was in the same shape as her hand, the right height on the wall, and it smelled like her. His Ladybug was injured. Hawk Moth had hurt Ladybug.

Chat barely clamped down on the snarl threatening to rip from his throat. He’d never been so angry or so terrified in a battle before. His hands practically tingled with crackling shadows, despite his Cataclysm remaining unvoiced. However, going berserk right now wouldn’t help him find his partner or defeat their opponent. He had to maintain control and try to think logically.

Touching the blood lightly, he found it just wet enough to leave a tacky film on his black gloves when he rubbed his fingertips together. He couldn’t see Ladybug anywhere in the alleyway, so she’d either left or been taken. At a guess, she’d been gone for at least five minutes but not more than fifteen.

_Where was she now?_

The shrill whine of an electrical pencil sharpener unexpectedly sounded from the street at his back. Baring his teeth with frustration, Chat hesitated. _Run or fight?_

_Run and find Ladybug_ , he decided. He had to believe that she’d stayed lucky enough to evade capture, that somewhere, she was okay. First he’d find her and then they’d defeat Pencil Pusher together.

Turning tail, he leapt forward just as his opponent sprang into view, one more thing that was off about today. The super villain calling herself “Pencil Pusher” was an attractive middle-aged woman with blond hair. Except for the outfit and a too-wide mouth, she bore a striking resemblance to his missing mother. It had unnerved Chat ever since he’d first seen her.  She wore a gray pencil skirt and blazer made of faintly striped notebook paper over a black bodysuit. The skin of her face went past pale into a dead white. On her blond head, sporting stipes of variegated blue that made him think of river water, she wore a triangular folded newspaper hat showing the crosswords section. One of her hands clutched an electric pencil sharpener and the other an abnormally large and very sharp pencil. A quiver of unsharpened pencils hung over her shoulder.

In addition to being dressed much less colorfully than their usual opponents, she also acted different. It felt as if something had gone wrong when the Akuma had joined with her, like it had driven her slightly insane. She seemed actually homicidal. In the past, Hawk Moth’s minions had transformed people or made things disappear, but they’d never acted so indiscriminately violent, destructive, or crazy before.

Something had changed for the worse.

Earlier in the fight when Pencil Pusher dodged a swipe from his baton, she’d immediately counterattacked with a barrage of pencils. “Permanence is a lie!” she’d hissed through the cloud. “Ink or people, it’s all the same. Alcohol dissolves ink; death ends life. Soon I’ll win and you’ll be gone. Everything will be gone!”

One of her paper airplanes got through his defenses by swooping unexpectedly from the sky to dive-bomb his face. It had left a nasty papercut on his chin that dribbled blood down his neck before clotting. He was lucky it hadn’t poked out his eye.

Although he’d only taken a few seconds to decide on looking for Ladybug instead of fighting, Chat’s hesitation cost him. His opponent hadn’t hesitated at all. The second she saw him, the blond super villain attacked.

Sneering, Pencil Pusher threw a pencil the length and width of a cricket bat at Chat. Horrified, he twisted, barely dodging impalement. It splintered at his heels, tripping him into a roll and driving sharp slivers into the unprotected nape of his neck. Chat winced, feeling warm blood trickle down beneath his collar, but didn’t let it distract him, zigging and zagging down the alley as he frantically searched for more flashes of red and a way out.

The evilized office worker gave an ear-splitting electrical whine, sharpening another pencil spear as she pursued. Chat needed to get her sharpener away. He was pretty sure it held the trapped Akuma granting her powers. However, all of his attempts to take it so far had failed. Without Ladybug to purify it, it was pretty pointless anyway.

Chat needed to find Ladybug. He couldn’t win by himself. To be honest, Chat always needed her. Not just to wrest away the sharpener and purify the poor woman from her pencil obsession and destruction of Paris, though obviously that was important, but to also see that Ladybug the person was okay.

Heart racing, Chat bobbed and weaved down the alleyway as he reminded himself that Ladybug was strong and tough. She was smart and strategic. Ladybug could occasionally be impulsive, but rushing in with a half-baked plan was generally his failing, not hers. That’s why he was usually the one limping at the end of a fight. Not her. It was just his bad luck (and honor) to take the hits instead of Ladybug. Even though he hadn’t found her yet, he forced himself to believe that his Lady was too lucky to be seriously injured, despite the stark, bloody handprint mocking his optimism.

Suddenly he scented the faint copper and salt scent of her blood to the left. He looked over and then up, his magic-enhanced eyesight finding a small red spatter on the fire escape. Not bothering to take out his baton, Chat leapt up, grabbed the railing, and flipped himself onto the metal platform. Then he scrambled up the ladders to the roof.

Tossing a look over his shoulder, he saw Pencil Pusher climbing straight up the wall after him using chunks of wet papier mache to help her hands stick. Chat sprinted across the roof, hoping to lose her. He didn’t see any more blood. The roof ended at an open street. He had to go left or right. Chat leapt for the building on the left.

“I want your Miraculous, Chat Noir!” the villain cried. “I’m going to take it and erase you from the Paris skyline!”

“I’ve left my name in _purr_ -manent marker on this city. You _chat_ erase a mark like that!” Chat mocked back. Pencil Pusher screamed in rage, obviously not a lover of puns.

Seconds later, erasers pelted Chat’s head and shoulders with bruising force, barely deflected by his protective suit. One smashed painfully into a delicate leather ear, jarring his skull. He yelped but kept running, skittering down a roof, behind a chimney, and then leaping over to another building.

A fist-sized smear of red on a chimney as he ran past confirmed his direction, but he didn’t have time to celebrate. Chat had to lose his opponent first. Keeping low, he ran across the roof and jumped, still going left.

Ladybug had a tendency to retreat to the left when startled. He’d been trying to train her out of it, but the wound must be bad enough that she’d reverted. Chat just hoped she’d still be conscious when he found her. _Why was there so much damned blood?_

“I know you’re here somewhere! Are you too afraid to come down, like a cat stuck in a tree?” Pencil Pusher taunted from a few buildings behind him. Chat glanced up, but couldn’t see her from his low crouch. Her sudden silence seemed ominous.

His worry came true when the super villain suddenly screamed, “Shaving Storm!” Pencil Pusher’s hand briefly appeared over the roofline, silhouetted against the sky as she emptied her larger-on-the-inside pencil sharpener into the sky. A gigantic cloud of wooden shavings hovered in the air for a moment, dimming the sunlight, before crashing down on the neighborhood like a hailstorm of needles, shattering shingles and breaking windows in a cacophony of destruction.

Skidding down the slope of the roof in frantic retreat at the first sight of the deadly cloud, Chat Noir sensed a shadow and contorted sideways, barely dodging the sharp projectile. He felt the rush of air as the wooden dagger passed mere centimeters above his cheek. It stabbed into the roof with a quivering _twang_ and stuck. Hysterical relief bubbled in his chest at his close escape, though he still wasn’t out of danger.

Abruptly Chat realized that the edge of the roof was coming up quickly and his baton had gotten twisted under his hip out of reach. Frantically flinging out a hand, Chat caught at the gutter with his fingertips. His body jolted hard, making him bite his tongue painfully. The metal of the gutter squealed and bent alarmingly, but held. The momentum swung Chat around until he faced a window.

Inside, two dark-haired teenagers crouched under a table as another barrage shook the building. They didn’t notice him, too distracted with an argument. White plaster bits fell from the vibrating ceiling, coating the furniture like a layer of newly fallen snow. Chat flattened himself against the building and beneath the scant eaves for protection from the splinters still falling from the sky.

“How could you lose your phone again?” yelled the boy, his voice travelling through windowpane.  “How do you expect to find and help anyone out in that without your phone? You’re not Ladybug. It’s stupid and dangerous.”

“You don’t need a phone or superpowers to help people. I’m going and that’s final,” she growled back stubbornly.

Another tremor shook the building. Inside, a picture of a family of five at some famous Moroccan monument crashed off the wall and hit the floor face up. The glass and frame broke into several pieces.  The teens flinched and went quiet.

Then the older girl looked up and saw him. Her eyes widened in shock for a moment before narrowing in determination. Shaking off her brother’s hand, she dashed out from under the table towards him. “Kenza!” protested the boy as she wrenched open the window.

“Inside, quickly!” she gestured insistently

Chat obeyed with alacrity, flipping his sore body up and inside the room. A puff of white powder rose into the air where his feet landed. Projectiles continued to fall outside for another ten seconds before everything became eerily silent. Then Paper Pusher’s angry screech echoed off the buildings and faded into the distance as she ran in the opposite direction.

Sighing with relief, Chat turned to his rescuers. Up close, the girl looked vaguely familiar. She couldn’t be more than two or three years younger than him. She had a tall, athletic build, prominent nose, tawny brown eyes, and long, curly black hair tied back in a ponytail. The boy looked slightly younger with similar features. Considering the broken picture and their coloring, they probably had ties to Morocco.

_Didn’t she go to his school?_ In fact, hadn’t he seen her around the fencing salon? _What had the boy called her? Zarah? Kendra?_ _Something like that_. Once he pictured her wearing a fencing jacket instead of a t-shirt, it clicked into place in his mind.

She was the new female fencing star of the junior team. Adrien hadn’t seen much of her himself, but he’d heard that she’d won 90% of her matches. He’d been looking forward to seeing her compete this afternoon at the fencing tournament.  

“Thanks for letting me in,” Chat said, trying to hide his recognition. “Are you two alright?”

“We’re fine,” the boy said shakily as he climbed out from underneath the table. “I’m Abbas, Abbas Bey, and this is my older sister, Kenza.”

_That’s right, Kenza_.

Bowing with a flourish, Chat replied, “Chat Noir, at your service.” Straightening back up, he saw Kenza fiddling with a white box. “I’ve got to go find Ladybug and then we’ll fix this super villain. Stay safe inside until then,” he gave them a confident smile.

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Abbas snapped at his sister as she walked over to Chat. Kenza rolled her eyes. Then without a by your leave, she reached up fast as a striking snake and grabbed Chat’s chin, rotating his head to better see the cut.

“What are you doing?” Chat asked with resignation. Seconds later, she wiped a damp tissue over his cut, though much more carefully than her rough grab led him to expect. He didn’t bothering trying to move away, though his jaw began to sting beneath her touch. At least Kenza was trying to be careful. Chat didn’t mind her help. He just would have liked to be asked first.

Then again, no one ever asked. Whether he wanted to be touched or not never seemed to matter. Strangers touched him all the time, whether in his work as a model, when they recognized Adrien on the street, or if he had to attend an event as Chat Noir. Even, or perhaps especially, his old friend Chloe grabbed at him every chance she could get.

He rarely bothered trying to protest. No one, from Chloe up to his father, ever seemed to listen. Why protest a touch when he knew no one cared? Sometimes, saying something just made the touching worse. Instead, he’d learned to just endure it. Ironically, the only person he really wouldn’t mind touching him more, Ladybug, didn’t seem interested.

“Your face is bleeding.” Kenza frowned sympathetically, “I’m just wiping it off so I can put on a bandage.” She held one up in shocking neon pink and grinned evilly, “They’re my little sister’s. They have kitties.”

“They’re kitties with wands and tutus,” Chat protested in horror, more concerned about that than the pink. He actually looked pretty good in pink, though pastels more than neons. Before he could squirm away, she smoothed it on his face. Abbas sent Chat a sympathetic look, probably used to his older sister’s bullying himself. Ignoring Chat’s disgruntlement, she stepped back with a smirk.

“Thanks,” he said dryly. Wrinkling his nose, Chat seized his freedom and leapt towards the window and escape.

Kenza quickly interrupted. “Wait, I know where Ladybug is!”

“What? Where?” he demanded, freezing in place.

“I saw her drop down into the street below just before the attack on the roof. She’s hurt. Her… her face was covered in red. It looked like blood.” Kenza’s voice went quiet and thick with worry as she pointed out the window. “Ladybug staggered away around that corner.”

Eyes dilating, Chat searched the shadowed street below with his enhanced eyesight. After a second he found a smudge of red fingertips along the wall. His stomach clenched. _At least she’s still up and mobile_ , he tried to console himself.

Kenza continued with a determined look in her eye, “I got out the first-aid kit to go and help her.”

“But now that you’re here, you can take it, Chat Noir,” Abbas interrupted as he quickly snapped the first aid kit closed on the table, dodged his sister’s swiping hands, and thrust it at Chat. “It’s too dangerous for Kenza to go out there right now. No matter what she thinks, she’s not a superhero like you.”

Lips pressed tightly together, Kenza glared at her brother. “I can still go. Maybe I can help.”

Shaking his head, Chat reached out and squeezed Kenza’s shoulder. “No, your brother’s right, Kenza. You don’t have the protection of a magical suit and this super villain is worse than usual. It isn’t safe out there right now. You’ve already helped enough. Thank you.”

Stepping back, he gave them both a nod and, ignoring Kenza’s frustrated face, hopped up onto the windowsill clutching the first aid kit in the crook of his arm. Then he fell backward in a showoff move that morphed into a flip as he dropped to the ground. He bounced once with his baton in the shadowed alley before somersaulting into a crouch on the street corner and looking both ways.

Chat had to pause at the sheer destruction that met his eyes once he came out into the sunlight. Blinking rapidly, he tried to catch a hint of red, of his Lady. Yet the normally busy street resembled a chaotic scene from one of those post-apocalyptic anime he liked to watch.

There was no life, just destruction.  People should have been there, hiding, crying, cheering at seeing his face, but instead there was no one. Just eerie silence. He hoped they’d fled instead of being turned into bits of paper or getting injured. At least there weren’t any broken bodies. The shaving storm had destroyed the parked cars, leaving them with shattered windows, large dents, scratched paint, and shredded upholstery. Even the colorful awnings along the storefronts had collapsed on top of the merchandise they usually shaded, leaving the normally bustling sidewalk resembling an abandoned room full of sheet covered furniture, rotting floorboards, and ghosts.

A normal man wouldn’t have been able to track Ladybug in the chaos, but he wasn’t just a man. He was the superhero Chat Noir. Stalking down the street, he flared his nostrils and scanned carefully for any signs of his partner. Although he couldn’t see any clues, he could smell the subtle scent of her sweat and blood getting stronger until he came to a collapsed blue awning advertising souvenir t-shirts.

Faintly he heard the sound of an electric sharpener in the distance. He cocked his head, but it didn’t sound too close. Reengaging would be a prickly situation, but he’d worry about that after he found Ladybug. That took priority.

Lifting the edge of the blue awning, Chat ducked down and slid forward into the shadowed depths. Overturned tables spilled piles of t-shirts proclaiming a love of Paris onto the sidewalk. Closer to the wall, a stack of pink shirts had rusty blood smeared across their folds. Chat’s breath quickened.

Pushing a table out of his way with a soft screech, Chat impatiently rushed forward, only to be grabbed, flipped, slammed to the floor, and straddled. After a second of shock he forced himself to go limp and pressed his palms flat to the floor. A lithe but compact body kept him pinned down, with a hard forearm pushed against his throat. A heart-stopping pair of electric blue eyes framed by a red mask hovered mere inches away. They looked slightly unfocused.

“Ladybug,” Chat gasped past the pressure on his throat, “it’s me!”

Blue eyes, cold and threatening above too-pale cheeks, glared at him without recognition. Then she blinked rapidly, focused, and finally seemed to recognize him. Abruptly her tense body went limp. The elbow across his throat immediately slid off.

“Chat.” Ladybug’s breath warmly caressed his skin as she breathed his name with aching relief. A sigh, almost but not quite a sob, escaped her mouth. “Sorry,” she breathed, blinking hard again to fight off a sheen of moisture. “I was running and trying to hide for a minute to get myself together and you startled me.”

“It’s fine,” he answered just as softly, dealing with his own maelstrom of emotion at seeing her.

Their eyes caught and clung. Concern and reassurance passed back and forth silently. Unable to stop himself from touching her, Chat slid his arms around her waist and carefully smoothed his hands up her back, cupping the wings of her shoulder blades with a gossamer touch. He matched his breathing to the rise and fall of her chest, proof of life. She’d scared him. A traitorous whine escaped his chest. Surging up, he pushed his head against the fluttering pulse in her throat and tightened his light touch into a convulsive squeeze.

Ladybug tensed. It felt like a bucket of ice water. Before she could say something to break his heart, Chat dropped his arms loosely back down around her waist and dropped flat onto the floor.

His mouth opened and closed silently. Body tense, he didn’t know how to articulate his fear as he’d tracked her or his joy at finally finding her. Not sure what to say, how to explain, he just wanted her to understand him for once.

Wary, he met her shadowed eyes. What he saw made his shoulders relax. Her eyes shone with compassion. With a tilt of her head and quirk of her lips, she communicated apology at making him worry and gratefulness that he cared. As easy as that, Ladybug let him know that everything was fine.

Relieved, Chat couldn’t help the way his eyes dropped to trace the plush curves of her lips. A shuddery breath escaped his mouth to softly flutter through the hair falling messily around her face from where it had escaped her pigtails. His hands spanning her waist tightened again, possessively.

Ladybug’s eyes darkened. The flex of her arms slowly relaxed until her chest rested flush against his. In the shadowed awning, everything disappeared but their two bodies pressed hotly together on the cold ground.

Hesitantly but inexorably, Ladybug’s head began to tilt down. The dark cavern of her mouth became visible as sighed softly and licked her lower lip, leaving a glittering trail in the faint light. Chat had never wanted anything more in his life than to taste that lip for himself. Not breathing, he waited for her to close the final few inches.

His lips burned for want of her mouth, but he refused to scare her away again by rushing forward. Chat had learned that when he pushed, she pulled back. He had to accept that he’d never catch her unless she wanted to be caught. His fingers trembled against the curve of her hips with the strain of not pulling her down, of not lunging up and capturing her mouth with his kiss.

Eyes heavy lidded, Ladybug slowly tilted closer and closer. Chat became focused on her slightly parted lips until they were so close he had to close his eyes. Their breath mingled. Something hot and wet dripped onto his cheek.

Chat couldn’t help his minute flinch as his eyes snapped open.

Immediately, Ladybug jerked back with a muffled curse. Feeling the moment fast disappearing, his mouth arched up, desperately attempting to follow her retreat, but now she was too fast, when before she had moved glacier slow.

Then Chat saw red. A scarlet line ran down from a jagged gash in her hair, over her mask, and onto her cheek. Chat felt a besotted fool for not seeing the wound before in the shadows. He’d forgotten the damning red trail she’d left behind in his distraction with her lips.

“I’m sorry,” Ladybug bit her lip. She wiped a damp thumb over his face and then winced as it merely smeared the blood across his cheek. Using the heel of her glove, she carefully cleaned off his cheek until mostly satisfied. Then she leaned back, straddling his hips with no trace of her former warmth.

“Ladybug,” Chat said haltingly, trying to find the right words to bring that look back.

Grimacing, Ladybug swiped irritably at the blood now dripping over her mask and clumping in her eyelashes. Her glove looked saturated as it smeared the blood across her pale skin gruesomely. Body stiff, she abruptly shed his arms and swung off his body before he could tighten his grip. “I didn’t mean to drip on you. That’s super gross, sorry.”

Chat felt his stomach drop. “Buginette, I don’t care about the blood-,” he sat up and tried to get a better look at her injury, but she blocked his gesture by swiping a t-shirt off the floor and rubbing it hard across his blood-smeared face, ignoring his sputtering.

“I thought you were supposed to be going after Pencil Pusher, not me, Chaton,” Ladybug scolded in a wavering voice that failed to sound normal. Chat roughly pulled away from her scrubbing and forced her hand down, keeping her wrist caged in his fingers.

“You’re hurt,” he hissed. “You’re _bleeding_. Of course I came to find you. I can’t do this without you.” He meant more than just winning the fight. He meant _everything_.

For a second he thought he’d gotten to Ladybug when her lower lip started to tremble. Then she tightened her mouth, tugged free her hand, and looked away. Wadding up another t-shirt, she pressed it to her wound.

Not meeting his eyes, she dredged up an obviously fake smile. “Don’t worry about this; it’s just a little scratch. The bleeding is already slowing.” Pulling back her makeshift bandage, she showed him the long, jagged gash in her hairline surrounded by her swollen and discolored flesh. It took several seconds to begin bleeding again, but once it filled with blood, it overflowed and dribbled down across Marinette’s eye again.

“Oh good, it’s gone from gush to drip. How lovely,” Chat sniped.

Scowling, Ladybug swiped futilely with her glove, which showed dark bloodstains despite being red itself. “You’re not helping,” she muttered. 

Pressing his lips together hard, Chat snatched up a t-shirt emblazoned with the Eiffel Tower and pressed it hard against her head to stop the bleeding. When she flinched and barely swallowed back a whimper, he felt his ire crumble into ash. “I’m sorry,” he said. His guilt swelled. “I should have been better at keeping her away from you. Maybe if I’d been smarter about that first cataclysm, or made Plagg eat more quickly after I retreated, maybe then I could have gotten back before you got so badly hurt.”

Wide eyed, Ladybug emphatically waved off his words before he’d even finished. The motion caused her body to sway, making him worry about a concussion on top of the cut, but he knew mentioning it wouldn’t get him anywhere right now. Her unsteadiness could be just as much from blood loss or shock. Either way, they couldn’t do anything about it until the super villain was gone.

“It’s not your fault,” Ladybug said firmly. “In three years, Hawk Moth has never made a super villain this violent before. You did everything right.”

Although he wanted to argue, he knew it wouldn’t get him anywhere. Blowing out a breath, he pressed a fresh shirt against her wound. This time, he made sure to be careful. Ladybug winced but relaxed trustingly into his touch, closing her eyes and resuming her speech. “Maybe if I’d rushed over at the beginning of the fight instead of being so late, we would have defeated her quickly and I never would have gotten hurt in the first place. It’s my fault. I always think I’m better than I really am, so I try to do too much, won’t say no to people, and then end up running late and screwing up everything. I’ve done it for years, and I keep telling myself to stop, but somehow it always works out by the skin of my teeth, so I do it again. Plus, I’ve gotten complacent about the fights because together, we always win. It’s only in the last few months that it’s really caught up to me and I’ve started being so terribly late to things. All that good luck from being Ladybug spoiled me. None of that is fair to you. I’m so sorry, Chat Noir.” Shoulders slumped, Ladybug looked completely miserable.

“LB, stop. You’re doing your best and that’s pretty amazing in my book,” Chat protested, but she just shook her head with a defeated look. “Do you blame me for getting hurt today?” he pressed.

“No, of course not. That’s what I said!” she snapped, finally opening her eyes to send him a weak glare.

Chat nodded, “Then if you won’t blame me, you aren’t allowed to blame yourself either. We get hurt in fights. It happens, even if never this badly before. The only person to blame here is Hawk Moth. We’re going to de-evilize this lady, just like we always have before. Then we’ll heal and celebrate with a fist-bump. As a team we can do anything, right?” Eyebrows raised, he looked at her expectantly.

After a moment of hesitation, she let a small, genuine smile crease her lips. “Right.”

A trickle of blood escaped the edge of the bundled shirt and slid down to her temple before stopping. Chat caught it with his thumb and tenderly wiped it off. He wanted to bundle her up in his arms and spirit her away, but he couldn’t. They had to defeat this villain first. After that, her Miraculous Ladybug magic would take care of the wounds for him.

Then she wouldn’t need him anymore. She certainly wouldn’t try to kiss him again. That moment was lost, probably caused by the head wound in the first place. Stomping down on that line of self-pitying thought, he grabbed the first-aid kit he’d dropped and flipped it open one-handed.

“Where did you get that?” Ladybug asked.

Giving her a wink to hide his negative thoughts, Chat answered, “I met a nice girl named Kenza. She saw you injured from her window and wanted to help, but I convinced her to stay home and give me the first aid kit instead.”

“Flirting on the job again?” she asked with pursed lips.

“I didn’t flirt,” he rolled his eyes, secretly pleased at her show of jealousy. “I was just friendly.” Chat carefully peeled the shirt off her forehead. The bleeding had mostly stopped. There were probably disinfectant wipes in the box somewhere.

“Don’t bother with cleaning it, just a bandage is fine,” Ladybug brusquely interrupted his musing. “It shouldn’t be around long enough to get infected and cleaning it will just make it hurt more.”

“You sure?” he asked unhappily. At her impatient huff, he sighed and turned back to the first aid kit to fish out several butterfly bandages. Then he went up on his knees to lean over her. Ladybug tilted her head back trustingly. The moment once again felt charged with intimacy, but she closed her eyes before he could catch her gaze to see if she felt it too.

Swallowing down a growl, he let his gloved thumb caress across her face just once in indulgence. He wished he could actually feel the texture of her skin, see if it tended more towards velvet, satin, or silk. Returning to his task, Chat carefully placed the bandages over her cut. Picking up another shirt, he then gently wiped away as much of the remaining blood crusting across her eyelid and cheek as he could.

“By the way, I like the pink band aid with the dancing kitties,” Ladybug drawled from behind closed eyes. “It’s very cute. Did you get that from Kenza too?”

“Yep,” leaning back, he decided to metaphorically tweak her nose a bit. “She’s a girl who thinks cats are _purr_ -fectly _paw_ -some.” He couldn’t help but smirk when she twitched at that. “I’m all done, unless you want me to find you a kitty band-aid too?”

Eyes opening, she flatly answered, “Nah, one tom cat around here is enough.”

Chat was forced to swallow back his snappy retort as a splintering crash sounded in the distance, followed by another that seemed even closer. “Are you ready to go now, or do you need more time?” Chat asked, looking down at her in an attempt to compel an honest answer.

Pasting a confident look on her face, she straightened from her slouch. “I’m good. As soon as we catch up to her, I’ll call for my Lucky Charm. Then we can grab her sharpener, break it, and move on with this miserable day.”

“As my lady wishes,” he agreed with a bow.

It didn’t take long to meet up with Pencil Pusher. Ladybug’s Lucky Charm turned out to be a toy monkey holding a pair of cymbals. While Chat Noir distracted the bad guy, Ladybug wound up the monkey and threw it at Paper Pusher. It sailed over the villain’s shoulder and landed in the quiver on her back.

“You missed,” Pencil Pusher mocked.

Then the toy monkey chimed loudly right next to her ear. Shrieking in shock, Paper Pusher dropped her sharpener. Chat leapt forward and knocked it back towards Ladybug using his baton like a golf club. The sharpener skidded across the floor to the sound of Pencil Pusher’s angry shrieks.

As soon as it got close enough, Ladybug tried to stop it with her foot. She missed and staggered alarmingly. Luckily it bumped into her other foot and spun to a stop. While Chat kept Pencil Pusher occupied, Ladybug managed to break it open. A black Akuma fluttered out. Throwing out her yoyo, Ladybug purified the Akuma and returned Pencil Pusher to a blond businesswoman who immediately collapsed into a confused, shaking mess.

Holding his breath, Chat snatched up the toy monkey and handed it to a nervous-looking Ladybug. “It’ll work,” he told her confidently. He refused to believe anything else.

“Right,” Ladybug said, nodding her head in agreement. Abruptly she stopped nodding, winced, and carefully touched her head with a gulp. Then, very gently, she tossed the monkey into the air and called, “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Immediately the sky filled with shining, glittering swarms of magical ladybugs. They fluttered over Ladybug and Chat and then swept over the rooftops and down the street. When they disappeared, the destruction was gone and everything had been restored. People once more crowded the streets.

Best of all, Ladybug’s bandage was gone. Smooth, unblemished skin remained, clear of any red stains. Chat touched his chin. The neon pink band aid was gone too. Hopefully, the magic had returned the first aid kit to Kenza’s house.

“Are you alright?” Chat asked Ladybug, stepping close to look down at her. Cupping her face, he examined her forehead. “It looks fully healed,” he murmured.

Reaching up to squeeze his wrists, Ladybug sighed, “Thank goodness.” Then she licked her lips and confessed softly, “I was scared.”

Chat closed his eyes and swallowed. “Me too.” Without his conscious direction, he found himself leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. After today’s scare, he _needed_ to feel Ladybug’s smooth, warm skin against his with no barrier of cloth. He needed the tactile evidence that they were going to be okay. Instead of tensing at his action, Ladybug melted into his arms. For a moment, everything felt perfect.

Then Ladybug’s Miraculous earrings gave a warning beep. A siren approached. Someone’s camera shutter clicked.

Ladybug squeezed his wrists once. Then she slipped out of his hands and stepped back. Without any more words, she cast out her yoyo and swung away out of sight.


	3. Need to Know

 

Sitting on her balcony just a few hours later, Marinette wrapped her arms around her knees and gazed out at the twinkling lights of Paris. The icy wind skittered painfully across her skin and reminded her that November really wasn’t the best time for star gazing. She shivered, but otherwise didn't move. Although she’d come up here to clear her mind, it hadn’t really worked. It was too cold. Now she stayed either from a masochistic urge to punish herself for her screw-ups or in an attempt to earn a magical epiphany from any stray powers that might be watching.

"Marinette? What are you doing out here. It’s freezing! Are you alright?" Tikki's high-pitched voice stopped as she lingered near the warmth of the bedroom.

"I'm fine," Marinette said absently, not turning to focus on her friend.

The little red kwami came out with an unhappy squeak and hovered near Marinette’s shoulder. "Are you sure?" Tikki pushed. "Because you don't seem alright. You got really hurt today and now you’re sitting outside in freezing weather. Come inside? Please?”

Sighing gustily, Marinette bowed her head and shuffled to her feet. Her hands felt like blocks of wood from where they’d gone numb from the cold. They returned to her bedroom and Marinette closed and latched the roof access with painfully tingling fingers.

Finally Marinette turned to Tikki with a hollow smile. "We've never had a fight like that before, Tikki. It- it scared me, shook me out of my complacency."

"But you did win, Marinette. Don't forget that either," Tikki pressed.

Marinette see-sawed her hand back and forth in the air, "We did win, but barely. In the past year, we've been seeing a lot fewer Akumas, as if Hawk Moth has been distracted. I have a feeling that reprieve is over. That woman was so much more violent and brutal than anyone we've ever faced before, but once we banished the Akuma, she seemed just as normal as all of the other victims. I don't think it was her, I think Hawk Moth has gotten tired of losing and that he's decided to escalate. I'm worried."

Tikki flew over to sit on Marinette's knee. "It’s okay to be worried and scared, Marinette. Just don’t let it stop you from acting. I still believe in you. Ladybug and Chat Noir are a great team. Together, you can beat him. I know it."

"Thanks, Tikki," Marinette gave her friend a small smile. "I'm not going to give up, but this has just made me worry. If Hawk Moth is escalating, I'm not sure if college is going to work out anymore. I'm spread so thin as it is. I’ve always wanted to study fashion, but I don’t want to use my parent’s hard earned money to pay for classes that I never attend because I’m off fighting bad guys. At least high school is free and my teachers won’t ever be my future employers. I’ve been so excited about graduating, but maybe I’ve just been fooling myself. My life will probably get worse, not better,” Marinette ended glumly.

“I wish I knew how to advise you,” Tikki said carefully. “Most of my Ladybugs in the past didn’t have the option of advanced education, so it’s rarely come up. I want you to be happy, but my purpose is also to defeat evil by creating and supporting Ladybug. That sometimes makes me biased and narrows my focus.”

Pressing her lips together, Marinette nodded. “It’s okay, Tikki. I know you think we could have beat Hawk Moth years ago if I’d just spent more time patrolling and less time on homework, video games, and hopeless crushes."

Tikki sighed. “That’s not fair. I never said that. I don’t expect you to give up everything in your life but Ladybug. I care about you, Marinette. You are a wonderful person. That you fight as Ladybug is one of the least of my reasons.”

Mouth crumpling, Marinette quickly looked away from Tikki's kind face. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "I want to do what's right,” Marinette swallowed. “It's just hard to figure out what that is when there are multiple right things pulling me in different directions."

"Oh, Marinette, you have a good heart and a wise head," Tikki soothed. "Just do your best and I'm sure things will work out."

Marinette nibbled her lip, "I wish I had your confidence, Tikki." Her friend silently patted her knee in reply. Marinette gave her a half-smile and rubbed a finger over Tikki’s head. Then a great big yawn caught her by surprise. Collapsing onto her bed, Marinette pulled her covers over her head.

The next time she saw the clock, she realized that she’d slept for almost ten hours straight. Despite the sleep, she felt groggy. After going to the bathroom, she wandered downstairs in her pajamas and grabbed her favorite mug from the cabinet. She barely had time for a sip of water before the screaming outside started. A fluorescent orange supervillain on a jet pack flew by the window.

“Spots on!” she cried, sucking Tikki into the Miraculous earrings as she transformed.

Seconds later, Ladybug raced outside. The battle took several hours and the blond super villain almost chopped off the top of Marinette's left ear before they managed to purify the akuma.

The next day saw another attack, a blond wearing yellow and purple and wielding a chef’s knife and whisk. Marinette’s hair had come loose from its ties and resembled a beehive. Chat lost half his belt-tail, a chunk of his scalp, his bell, and the tip of his boot before things were done. A red film took over Ladybug’s vision, leading to the most vicious take down she'd ever executed. She hadn’t even noticed her own bloody nose until after she’d purified the Akuma. The Miraculous Ladybug spell had had to heal everyone that time. She hadn't been able to console or even talk to the crying woman afterwards, despite knowing that she was just a victim of Hawk Moth, because Ladybug couldn't get over the fact that Chat had gotten hurt so badly.

No attacks came the next day. However, Marinette still felt battered after taking a test and two quizzes at school that she'd forgotten about in her battle stupor. At home, she’d gotten scolded for skipping out on her chores all week and neglecting her schoolwork. Her father had gotten so frustrated with her excuses, he wouldn’t even look at her during most of the conversation.

Another attack came a day later, but finally they got a break from blonds. The short, pudgy, Indian man in a scarlet and gold turban seemed more interested in destroying fitness equipment and gyms than with hurting people. After de-evilizing, his wife brought him a cupcake in apology for nagging about his weight and he split it with her and offered to take a couples aerobics class at the second gym he’d leveled because he liked the scarlet and gold color scheme. Ladybug and Chat had fist-bumped without any blood spilt that time.

They got three days break after that, then another mature, blond woman with an unusually vicious attack. Even with healing powers of the Miraculous, the superheroes were physically and mentally exhausted. Neither Ladybug nor Chat could figure out what the pattern of blond women meant. Once purified, though, the women became sweet and heartbreakingly remorseful.

Finally, the fights started spreading out again. The next three evilized people appeared over two-and-a-half weeks and none of them were blond women. They didn't know why the flurry of attacks had started or why they were now slowing down. They didn't know if blond women being evilized meant something or if it had all been a fluke. It made her feel frustrated and helpless. Despite three years of battling Hawk Moth, they still knew practically nothing about their enemy.

It made Marinette wonder if a different Ladybug, a different girl wearing the suit, might have defeated him sooner. If she’d passed the earrings off to Alya at the start, would things be better? Her grades were down, her parents disappointed, her college ambitions in jeopardy, and her friends distanced. Only Alya's stubborn and forgiving nature had kept their friendship from crashing and burning years ago. She couldn't keep a boyfriend more than a few weeks, even if she'd wanted to (though admittedly, she hadn’t protested either of the breakups). Her dreams of a fashion career felt like they were in danger of disappearing too.

Nothing was going right. Something had to change.

The words came to her lips on the tail end of another tough battle. A dazed woman with a shaved head sat slumped against the wall across the street, no longer possessed. Both Marinette and Chat had beeping Miraculouses warning of impending transformation. They stood leaning into each other, panting lightly, exhausted, and yet needing that moment of touch to assure each other they were now safe after another dangerous battle.

During the fight, Chat’s arm had gotten viciously broken. She’d actually heard the wet snap and seen the bone protruding grotesquely beneath his suit as he’d screamed. Chat had thrown up from the pain before rejoining the battle with a last-second cataclysm to give her a distraction to break the Akuma free. He looked fine now that she’d cast her Miraculous Ladybug, but she could still hear that horrible snap echoing in her ears.

Her earrings beeped again, warning her to leave or risk exposure.

Reaching out, she slid her hand down his now smooth arm, the bone incased in firm muscle, needing tactile evidence that the break truly was gone. His ring gave its own warning beep. Despite her intention to let go and step back, she found her hand tightening convulsively around his wrist instead. She wanted, needed to stay with him.

"Ladybug?" he asked with gentle confusion, doing nothing to escape her grasp, in fact leaning into the touch.

Then her mouth opened, "I think I need to know who you really are. Need you to know who I really am."

"What, really?" he breathed in shock and hope. His eyes went wide. The shape of his mouth looked vulnerable. It made her feel protective. She shifted instinctively to block sight of his face from anyone watching.

A strange pressure built in her ears, like diving to the bottom of a pool. Ladybug felt shocked by what she'd said too, but for the first time, not afraid. She wanted to tell him now, but her mouth refused to shape the syllables. "Yes," she said instead, proud that her voice barely wavered. "It's time to let this cat out of the bag," her heart soared at the delighted smile suddenly creasing his face. She couldn’t help but smile back.

Then her Miraculous gave its final warning beep. Chat shook his head sharply, as if waking from a dream. "But not in front of everyone," he said. "It's not safe, especially not now. Can we go somewhere to talk?" A clock tolled in the distance.

Wincing, Ladybug looked away. “I have to be somewhere. I’m already late as is. I’m sorry.”

Chat’s body tensed as if bracing for a blow. Slipping his arm out of her clasp, he gave her a gentle push. "Then go. I’ll see you soon." In contrast to his calm tone of voice, his green eyes burned with a maelstrom of tortured emotions, including uncertainty and doubt.

“You will.” Nodding sharply in promise, Ladybug turned, flung out her yoyo, and swung away. She turned her head at the last moment to see him sleekly bounding away in the opposite direction. For the first time in weeks, she felt a sense of anticipation.

Unfortunately, that good feeling didn't last long. The nightly news report had focused on the escalating attacks and the analysis that Ladybug and Chat Noir had barely been scraping by with their victories. Even when they won, their fights still disrupted the city. People were starting to doubt the superheroes. They were starting to fear going out on the streets again. Even business in the bakery was down.

To make things worse, Marinette's father was in a foul mood because the delivery truck had shown up extremely late. He wouldn't sell stale leftovers in the morning, despite having so much of them, so instead of relaxing upstairs with his family, he was still putting things away so they'd be ready for tomorrow's baking. After grabbing a quick snack, Marinette had helped wrap up leftovers. Then she’d swept and mopped the floors in the bakery.

When finished, she’d gone into the back to start putting things away, but her father came out of the storeroom and stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “You can go back upstairs. Help your mother or do your homework,” he said brusquely. Then he turned away and went back to unloading.

Marinette frowned stubbornly at his back. “But Dad, you still have a lot of things to put away and I can tell you’re tired. If I help, it’ll get done quicker.”

Flopping a bag of flour down off his shoulder and into the storeroom with a grunt, her father stood tensely for a moment. Then he raised his head and marched back into the room. “I’d rather not rely on your help, Marinette. You never follow through and it causes contention in the family.”

Staggered, she caught her breath. “Wh- what does that mean?”

Grimacing, he looked away as if pained. “It means I can’t count on you anymore, none of us can. You say you’ll help and then you disappear the minute I turn around. You never remember to do what your mother asks of you. Then the next time you feed us some excuse so you can run off instead of working. You lie all of the time. I’ve tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I’m tired of being angry and disappointed. Lately, when the phone rings and you’re gone, I’m scared that it’s the police calling about your arrest. Then I’m disappointed, because if they caught you, at least I’d know what was going on. I don’t know who you are anymore. I need to know, but you won’t tell me. I love you, but I can’t trust you anymore.”

“Daddy, I’m sorry.” Tears streamed uncontrollably down her face after hearing his criticism. Shocked and overwhelmed, Marinette could only choke out one more word, “Please.”

Tipping his head up to the ceiling, he clenched his jaw. Then he placed a hand over his eyes and squeezed. Seconds later, he released a long, rattling sigh.

Marinette put a hand over her mouth to muffle a sob. _How had it come to this?_

At the sound, her father immediately looked down. Placing an arm over her shoulders, he squeezed gently. For a moment, Marinette thought it might be okay, that she could fix this somehow. That she must have just heard him wrong.

Then her father spoke. “I’m tired, Marinette, and there’re still a lot of things to put away. Go on upstairs. We’ll talk more later.”

Blinded by tears, she stumbled to the door leading to the house. It stood open. Inside, her mother waited on the steps, having eavesdropped on the entire conversation. The lines on her mother’s face looked deeper than usual. Marinette paused, hoping she’d say something to contradict her father, but her mother didn’t say anything. She just put a hand on Marinette’s back and gently led her upstairs.

After a silent dinner, Marinette washed the dishes while her mother sat at the table going over the weekly accounts for the bakery. Based on her mother’s expression, she knew the numbers weren’t good. Marinette felt helpless.

Turning back to the kitchen, she boiled some water. Then she carefully set a cup of jasmine tea at her mother's elbow. The door to down to the shop hadn’t opened yet. Marinette took two hesitant steps towards it before her mother stopped her.

“Give him some space,” her mother said softly. “Today was a bad day.”

“Yeah, okay,” Marinette said in an overly controlled tone of voice. “I’ll just go and take a shower.”

Before she disappeared into the bathroom, her mother’s voice stopped her. “Marinette?”

“Yes?” she answered immediately, turning with her heart in her throat.

“We do love you. Whatever it is, that won’t change. You can tell us.” Her mother’s piercing brown eyes locked Marinette in place, making the air feel heavy and thick as she silently begged her daughter to answer.

_I’m Ladybug_ , Marinette thought, but the crushing weight of her responsibility paralyzed her tongue and made it hard to breathe.

“I love you, too,” Marinette finally forced out. “I wish you could trust in that, and that I’d never do anything to shame you or Dad.” Then she went into the bathroom and locked the door, unable to withstand another lecture on her failings.

When she got out, the room was empty and the door to the bakery downstairs open. After a detour into the kitchen, she returned to her bedroom. Placing a plate of cookies down on the desk, she grabbed her brush.

"Tikki?" Marinette asked, looking around as she began combing her hair.

“Over here,” Tikki said softly as she came into view. “I thought it best to make myself scarce for a while. Thank you for the cookies.” The next few minutes held nothing but the sound of cookies crunching and the rasp of the brush working through tangles in her hair.

Finally Tikki broke the silence. “I’m so sorry about your parents, Marinette.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said thickly before clearing her throat, “but I don’t want to talk about that right now. I got to thinking in the shower about Ladybug business. There’s something I need to talk to you about.” Putting down her hairbrush, she turned to face Tikki.

Despite her intention to just state her mind about Chat, she chickened out at the last moment and went with a different topic. "The way fights have been going lately, the news isn't really wrong. I feel like we're barely winning anymore. Last year the fights were few and far between and, to be honest, not that hard. I banked on my good luck and got cocky. Obviously things are a lot harder now and I'm worried. I don’t feel very lucky lately."

The small red kwami abandoned her plate of cookies to fly over to sit on the edge of Marinette's desk. "You're right that things have suddenly gotten a lot more difficult, but don't sell yourself short, Marinette. You and Chat are still saving people, still winning, even with the difficulty. You've even managed to be on time for the last few fights instead of putting other things first and showing up late. You should be proud of yourself."

"Other things like the rest of my life? My friends? School? The bakery and my family? My future?" Marinette threw up her hands and slumped down in her chair. "Why is it so wrong to want something for Marinette too? Why does Ladybug always have to come first?"

"Marinette," Tikki scolded gently but firmly, "you know why and you know that Ladybug _is_ Marinette right now. They're the same person, with the same smarts and big heart in or out of costume. I've told you this over and over."

Before Tikki could say more, Marinette jumped to her feet and started pacing around her room. "I know, Tikki. I know, alright?" she snapped. Then she stopped on the other side of the room and scrubbed her hands violently through her hair, stopping to grip tightly at the roots. "Argh!" she growled, dropping her hands and throwing herself on the floor in a sulk.

"Marinette?" Tikki sighed with exasperation, probably asking herself why she'd been shackled to a teenage drama queen with bad self-esteem, mediocre misdirection skills, and problems prioritizing.

Heaving a deep sigh, Marinette threw an arm over her eyes dramatically, unable to help herself. "I'm sorry, alright? It's just been a tough few weeks followed by a really horrible day."

"I know," Tikki acknowledged. "But… it hasn't all been bad." She paused for a moment before saying delicately, "You and Chat seem to be getting closer."

Dropping her arm, Marinette sat up and began nibbling on her knuckle without making eye contact. "Yeah, about that," she trailed off.

Tikki hummed thoughtfully. "Is this about almost kissing him?" Marinette's face went hot as she squeezed her eyes shut tightly. "Or is it about your new promise to reveal your secret identities to each other?"

Although she wanted to squirm, they really did need to have this conversation. She’d been trying to initiate this conversation. Putting on her big girl pants, Marinette forced herself to open her eyes and look at Tikki.

"Look, I didn't almost kiss him," Marinette began, speaking over Tikki's skeptical snort, "and that's not important right now, anyways. However," she pulled in a quick breath, "we need to talk about me telling him who I really am, telling him that Ladybug’s really Marinette."

The weary look on Tikki's face reminded Marinette that her friend was old, very very old. "Marinette, you know that I care about you. I want you to be happy. I can’t stop you from talking identities with Chat Noir if that’s your choice, but once you do, you can't go back."

"I know," Marinette breathed painfully, "but… I trust him."

Nodding gravely, Tikki continued. "Then I want you to think, is the risk worth the reward? Right now, you're scared. That's not a good place to make big decisions from. This can’t just be about trust or emotions, it's about strategy. Why is telling him now a good choice when it wasn't last year or even last month?"

"Well," looking down to play with the hem of her nightshirt, Marinette tried to force her thoughts into order. "I can't say that emotions aren't a part of this. I've always been afraid to tell him, afraid that my two lives would crash together and cause something to break. There's also a large part of me that's still afraid he'll be disappointed to know that Ladybug is just plain old Marinette, but I also have to hope that he won't care.”

"Marinette," Tikki scolded, hands on her little hips, "you think too little of yourself. Ladybug _is_ Marinette and there's nothing plain about her. All of the amazing things you manage to do are because of the girl inside the costume, not because of the costume itself."

Flying forward, Tikki pressed a hand to her face. "Your friends and family would be proud if they knew." Then Tikki's hand dropped and she drifted back, "But it just isn't safe for them to know with Hawk Moth's identity up in the air and the escalating attacks."

"I know why I can't tell them," Marinette said with resignation, "but Chat is different. Besides, maybe if I knew him in normal life, I could help him out more when he's struggling too. Sometimes he seems so lonely, it breaks my heart. He puts up a good front and normally seems so buoyant that it's easy to overlook. It's only when I look back that I realize that I know barely anything about his family life or what could be making him so sad. Knowing each other better would make us better partners."

Marinette leaned forward. “Until now, we've managed despite the secrets. Yet Hawk Moth's strategy has changed. If we want to win, we have to change something too."

Forcing herself to look at Tikki's calm and compassionate face, Marinette admitted, "You know I've been struggling with being Ladybug lately. I like helping people and I love winning fights, but sometimes I miss being a regular girl. I know I haven't been immediately dropping everything in my life when I hear about a battle. I show up, but I've been slacking. That won't work anymore. I plan to do better. I know I have to. I want to beat Hawk Moth, but to do that, I need Chat Noir.”

“In battle, I trust Chat with everything, everything but my true identity. Maybe to win, I need to get rid of that hesitation. In some ways he's my best friend, but in others he's still a stranger. I know it hurts him that I won't share my identity with him. I care about him so much, Tikki. I don't want to hide anymore.”

“So far, Ladybug and Chat Noir haven't been able to beat Hawk Moth. I've started to wonder if maybe only the girl and boy behind the masks can do that. Maybe if we train more, talk more, maybe then we can finally stop him once and for all. With everything becoming so hard, my relationship with Chat is the one thing that doesn't have to be. I want to tell him. "

Nodding slowly, Tikki cocked her head to the side and added, "And you like him."

Blushing again, Marinette barely kept herself from squirming. "He's been my partner for three years. Of course I like him."

"Are you sure this is really about trust and training?" Tikki prodded. "What if you finally see him without the mask, get all starry eyed, and turn your partnership into another Adrien Agreste situation where you can't talk or even walk straight anymore?"

"Tikki!" Marinette squirmed with embarrassment. "You know I'm better now. I've given up on my crush. Only innocuous pictures decorate my walls. I even talk to Adrien without stuttering now."

"But your face still turns strange colors sometimes and you ramble," Tikki added pointedly.

"I've even had two different boyfriends," Marinette talked loudly over her friend, "which proves that I can date someone without turning into an idiot."

Pursing her lips, Tikki prodded, "But neither of those boys lasted long or ever won your heart."

"They're the ones who asked me out and then dumped me because I wasn’t as fun as they thought and then disappeared all the time with flimsy lies and excuses," Marinette defended, trying and failing to keep the echo of hurt from her voice. "I was still willing to try."

"So this is about you wanting to date Chat Noir now instead, or rather, his alter ego?" Tikki flicked her antenna and pursed her lips.

"No!" Marinette exclaimed, face turning hot. She’d probably spent most of this conversation with skin redder than Tikki’s.

At Tikki's skeptical look, she rubbed a hand hard across her mouth and then added guiltily, "Fine, I don't know. Maybe?” Tikki snorted.

Marinette threw her hands up in the air. “It's complicated. He's complicated. Who even knows if he's serious with the flirting? Or what he's like without the suit? Part of me hopes he's a little ugly without the mask. It’s not very likely with that jawline, but it would be awesome," she mused.

At Tikki's disappointed look, Marinette sighed and got serious. "I admit that I still get confused on whether I want to push him away or pull him close, but I do know that Chat is more important to me than just about anything else. Sometimes I doubt myself, but I never doubt the partnership of Ladybug and Chat Noir. I never doubt the good we do together.”

Taking a deep breath, she said, “Tikki, this really is about trying to be a better Ladybug and about figuring out how to finally win. I promise."

A kindhearted look creased Tikki's round face. She flew over and placed her hand on Marinette's fingers. "I believe in you, Marinette. If this is what you need to do to be a better Ladybug, I'll support you."

"Thank you," Marinette gave her friend a smile. Then she looked over at her desk. "Why don't you finish your cookies while I catch up on homework? I think that’s enough heavy conversations for one day."

Downstairs, Marinette heard a door bang loudly against the wall. Adrenaline spiking, she jumped to her feet and looked to Tikki. Then her mother, who never raised her voice, shouted in a panic, "Marinette! Get down here, your father’s hurt!"


	4. Adrien’s Modeling Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Sexual Harassment, including unwelcome touching.

 

The next few days passed in an awful blur full of stress-bitten lips, back-breaking labor, and little sleep.

“I’m fine,” Marinette’s father said.

“Your head’s cut open, Tom!” her mother replied.

“Five stitches!” Marinette scolded.

“If you won’t let me work in the bakery, at least let me take a shower by myself,” he insisted sourly.

“With a concussion, stitches, and a cast? Not a chance,” said her mother unequivocally. “What if you fall over and break your nose on the toilet bowl? You can take a bath by yourself or you can wait until you no longer have dizzy spells to shower alone.”

To their frustration, Tom stubbornly stopped taking his medicine and started lurking in the bakery instead of resting upstairs. “You’re not kneading the dough right, let me show you,” her father growled, unsuccessfully hiding a wince from his aborted gesture to take over.

Marinette barely refrained from snarling with stress and exhaustion. “It’s three thirty in the morning. I’ve only had six hours of sleep in the last three days and I’ll probably be late for school again today despite spending my every waking moment in this kitchen. I know I’m not kneading it the way you would, but my forearms and hands are a tenth the size of yours. I’m trying! You can’t do it yourself or even show me exactly how I’m doing it wrong because YOUR ARM IS BROKEN.” Breathing heavily, she glared at the floured table and shaped another loaf the best she could.

“I know,” he finally said in a quiet and defeated tone of voice.

Leaning back to look up at the ceiling, Marinette sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t snap. I’ll try harder.”

“No, I’m sorry. I know you’re trying. I’ll just…” he trailed off and looked around helplessly.

“Go back upstairs, take your medicine, and go to sleep so you can heal as quickly as possible and take over baking again?” Marinette suggested.

Chuckling, her father dropped a kiss on her head. “Yeah, that I guess. Thanks, sweetheart.” Turning, he slowly and unsteadily made his way back upstairs.

Despite the scare of her father’s accident, the world kept spinning. The bakery still had orders to fill and bills to pay. Unfortunately, things weren’t going so well. Marinette and her mother pitched in as much as they could, but it was too much work for just them. Luckily Hawk Moth was laying low after the recent flurry of attacks so at least Marinette could focus on her family. They did the best they could.

Nevertheless, despite her best efforts, things started to fall apart. Croissants got burnt. Cake didn’t get frosted. She accidentally packaged up two dozen blue cookies instead of one dozen pink (better too many than too few, but for a baby reveal party it was a big mistake to make).

Marinette’s family needed a miracle.

Then her father received a phone call. A distant cousin named Francois had abruptly decided to move back home, but he wanted to live in Paris. Francois had bakery experience and needed a job. As soon as her father offered to put him up for free if he kept the bakery running, Francois hopped on the next train.

When Francois showed up looking big and strong and well-rested, Marinette couldn’t contain her exuberant smile and grateful hug. “Our savior! Thank you so much for coming!”

Laughing, Francois dropped his luggage and hugged her back, practically swinging her up into the air because of their size difference. In his mid- to late-twenties, Francois definitely took after her father’s side of the family, with thick brown hair and a large, bearlike build. “Mar-bear! You grew up, kiddo, from a little pipsqueak into a total knockout. Still little though. What’re you now, 13 or 14? I bet I could pick you up with one hand,” he patted the top of her head with a speculative gleam in his eyes, and then laughed jovially at the sour face she made. 

“Marinette just turned 18, actually. You can tell by all of the wrinkles and gray hairs I’ve gained since we saw you last,” her mother said with a welcoming smile.

Marinette rolled her eyes and settled into the nearest armchair as Francois turned to greet her mother. She’d only met Francois a few times as a young child and didn’t remember him well. If she’d remembered the teasing, she might have been less excited. As an only child, Marinette had never built up a tolerance for being teased. Hopefully he didn’t turn this into a habit.

“Sabine, I see where your daughter gets her beauty from. Tom’s a very lucky man,” Francois said with an appreciative glance and flirtatious wink. Sabine’s face turned a light pink as she shook her head with mock scolding.

Her father Tom came into the room and collapsed onto the couch heavily. Small things still easily exhausted him. “Indeed I am, Francois, and they both grow more beautiful every year. You’ve grown up quite a bit yourself since I saw you last. Thank you again for agreeing to live here and keep the bakery running. It means a lot to us.”

“As long as you’re here, consider this your home too,” Sabine said with a gracious smile as she sat down and carefully tucked herself against her husband’s side. “You’re family. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thank you, I will. Just keep in mind that I’m here to help you out, not the other way around,” Francois said with a charming smile as he sat down on the arm of Marinette’s recliner. Marinette scooted over to give him some room, but there was only so much she could do. “Why don’t you start by telling me the bakery’s daily routine so I can get to work as soon as possible?”

Her father immediately launched into a detailed explanation.

Putting his arm along the back of the chair, he let his hand rest on Marinette’s shoulder, Francois squeezed lightly, letting his fingertips slip inside her shirt collar to rest on the bare skin of her shoulder. Marinette tensed. After a few seconds, his thumb began rubbing small little circles on the back of her neck. It made her increasingly uncomfortable, but when she looked at him from the corner of her eyes, he seemed absorbed in her father’s words.

Her parent’s didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with the way he was touching her. Maybe he didn't even notice that he was doing it. She shouldn’t overreact.

At the next conversational pause, she quickly slipped out of his hold and stood up. “You must be thirsty from travelling. Let me put together a tray of refreshments while you all work things out.”

“Thanks, Sweetheart,” her father said with a quick smile before turning back to his discussion with Francois.

It seemed like she’d barely caught her breath when Hawk Moth got bored with lying low and found another victim to evilize. The dark-skinned woman had a large afro that rose around her head like a cloud of silver sequins. Her attacks involved glitter, lots and lots of glitter. Confetti Grrl, as she chose to be called, used glitter bombs, glitter tape, and glitter glue. Her glitter gas made it impossible to see anything, caused uncontrollable sneezing, and felt like being trapped inside a disco ball while being scoured raw with sand. The bloody scrape on Ladybug’s eyebrow became caked almost instantly with glitter, as if she’d taken to wearing a new piercing.

However, at least Marinette wasn’t at home right now, dodging her parent’s mood swings, picky bakery customers, and Francois’s uncomfortable touches and teasing taunts. Battling for her life wasn’t that bad. From a certain point of view, the glitter on everything even looked kind of festive.

Too bad Confetti Grrl kept trapping people inside snow globes full of glitter. Ladybug couldn’t let that fly. She had a duty.

After about ten minutes of fighting, Ladybug looked around and still didn’t see Chat Noir. _Should she try to call him on her yoyo-phone?_ Although Chat had weird reservations about manners and ‘nagging’ her to show up, Ladybug had no such compunction. It only worked if they were already transformed though.

Abruptly she had a realization that made her stagger. If Chat came, he’d want to talk. He’d demand that conversation on secret identities that she’d promised.

The very thought made her squirm. It distracted her enough that she failed to dodge the sticky glob of glitter that splattered into her open eye. Despite scrubbing frantically, it wouldn’t come off. Ladybug now had a glittering eyepatch. All she needed was a hat and a parrot to fit right in on a glitter pirate ship.

Flipping back down the street to regroup, she tried to wrap up her distracting thoughts. Yes, she’d promised, and yes, she’d even argued for telling Chat the truth with Tikki. However, her home life had just become a battleground. _What if the identity reveal went badly? What if Chat somehow knew Marinette and hated her in real life? What if their partnership broke under the truth and everything went bad like Tikki’s initial caution had implied?_

_What if, what if, what if?!?_

She couldn’t handle more stress. Not this week. She’d tell Chat next time, but not today. Ladybug just wasn’t up for an emotionally heavy conversation. Nevertheless, she didn’t want to hurt Chat’s feelings by telling him that either.

There was only one solution. She’d have to avoid him all together until she was ready to talk. That meant she had to defeat this evilized girl quickly before he showed up.

Suddenly a figure darted out to crouch behind an electrical box. Ladybug recognized Alya, who had her phone out and was live-streaming the fight to the Ladyblog. Chat had mentioned several times that he closely monitored the Ladyblog. She didn’t have much time.

Psyching herself up with a few deep breaths, Ladybug bounced on her feet and called for Lucky Charm. Then she charged Confetti Grrl with a loud battle cry. The villain dodged her yoyo and darted left, then right. A roll of glitter tape looped around Ladybug’s legs, but snapped closed on empty air as Ladybug jumped into the air and swung away on her yoyo.

Confetti Grrl threw a series of confetti bombs after Ladybug, but they all missed. At the height of her arc, Ladybug dived at her opponent, hitting the ground and sliding until she came to a stop practically between the villain’s legs. Although she risked being sparkle-glued to the ground if this didn’t work, Ladybug reached up and spritzed Confetti Grrl in the face with the cheap bottle of perfume that had miraculously remained unbroken during her acrobatics.

Confetti Grrl flailed back, clawing at her face as the perfume burned her nose and eyes. Helicoptering her legs, Ladybug knocked Confetti Grrl down. Then she brought her heel smashing down onto the glitter jar hanging in the holster on Confetti Grrl’s belt. A black Akuma fluttered out.

Ladybug purified the Akuma and cast Miraculous Ladybug. When she checked her Miraculous earrings, she still had two spots left before her transformation wore out. “Not bad,” Ladybug congratulated herself.

Down the street, she saw something black approaching at a fast clip. Something black with cat ears on his head and blond hair. Ladybug felt a surge of adrenalin. Acting like she hadn’t seen anything, she instantly threw out her yoyo in the opposite direction and swung away fast. At the first subway stop, she ran down the staircase and ducked around an isolated pillar.

Suddenly her yoyo compact beeped with a message. Grimacing, she opened it, exhaling with relief when she saw a text instead of video call.

_Sorry I missed u._

_Wanna talk?_

_I’m out of town/busy for next 2 days._

Biting her lip, Ladybug guiltily typed back

_Can’t, sry._

_C U when U get back._

_Have fun._

Snapping her compact closed, she transformed back into Marinette seconds later. Then the train arrived. The new crowds quickly engulfed her and she let herself disappear into the masses.

“What was that?” Tikki asked incredulously from inside Marinette’s purse. “Are you avoiding Chat Noir?”

“Oh look, cookies,” Marinette said lamely as she opened a package and stuffed one into her purse and, coincidentally, into Tikki’s open mouth, stopping the kwami from asking anymore questions.

* * *

 

The next day saw Adrien panicking. He kept his expression flat through sheer force of will, though the widening of his eyes and stuttering of his lungs would have given him away had anyone been looking. He'd known for a long time about the big photo shoot launching the new jewelry line for the Agreste fashion empire. They'd already secured the rights to an editorial spread in one of the major magazines.

He just hadn’t known what the concept of the photo shoot was going to be.

As soon as the art director finished explaining, Adrien ducked away into a room and opened his bag. "Plagg! What am I going to do?" he whispered frantically to his small black companion.

"Make kissy faces at someone dressed up like Ladybug, I assume," Plagg drawled as he lazily oozed out of the bag. "I may be much more attractive than you, but you're the one they pay to be a model. Shouldn't you know how this all works by now?"

"Plagg!" Adrien felt a vein popping on his forehead as he glared at his small black companion. "They want me to be _Chat Noir_ in the photo shoot. This is a disaster! I still haven’t managed to talk to Ladybug about our secret identities, probably because she’s avoiding me, which has made me feel just, you know, great about myself, and now everyone in the world is going to figure out the truth! Then Ladybug will kill me. Then Hawk Moth will kill me! I’m basically dead." Adrien fell into a brooding silence.

"You can't really die twice, Adrien. You don't have nine lives just because you dress up like a cat," Plagg said snarkily.

"Not helping," Adrien folded his arms and glowered.

Plagg sighed, as if Adrien was the annoying one. "Look, it'll be fine. No one will figure it out exactly because it is too obvious. They won't think you'd be so stupid because they don’t know you all that well." A growl escaped Adrien's throat, but Plagg just talked over it. "Plus, you won't be wearing the suit or even a mask, isn't that what the guy said? The outfits are _inspired_ by Paris’s superheroes, but not exact copies, right?"

"I suppose," Adrien said grudgingly.

"Then you'll be fine," Plagg repeated.

When Adrien still didn't relax, Plagg heaved another aggrieved sigh. "Alright, look. I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I guess it can’t be helped. Unless you explicitly tell someone your identity, you're _too lucky_ to get discovered. _Literally_ ," he emphasized with an arch look.

Confused, Adrien asked, "What does that mean?"

"Look, we're partners, right?" Plagg asked rhetorically as he lounged back in the air. "So I have to look out for you, just like you have to give me cheese, though you really should give me more cheese. Stinginess is bad for you."

"Plagg," Adrien prompted impatiently.

"Right, so I hate to say it, man, but most of the time, you're like a bumbling little kitten stumbling down a busy street, barely avoiding getting squashed into a fuzzy blond pancake.” Plagg looked at him pityingly and nodded sagely, ignoring Adrien's offended scowl to continue. "Because we’re partners, I get dragged along into stupid crap with you. I sensed a while ago that your secret identity, and therefore my current cushy existence, has been on the cusp of falling to chaos and danger. Now I love chaos. I mean, this is me, Plagg the kwami of bad luck that we’re talking about here, but,” Plagg threw out his hand in emphasis, “I’m also much too lazy to break in a new partner, so yadda yadda I took care of it.” Nodding his head as if that explained everything, Plagg floated down to sit on the counter.

Adrien rubbed his temple. “Wait, Plagg, what does yadda yadda even mean?”

Rolling onto his back, Plagg sighed. “Does it really matter? I doubt your little brain could understand it anyways.”

Teeth gritted, Adrien took a deep breath. “Just so you know, I found a new cheese this week at the International Market. It’s called American Cheese: a processed, _imitation_ cheese product. I’m thinking of replacing all of our camembert with it from now on.”

Popping up into the air as if electrified, Plagg scowled and placed a hand to his heart. “That is low, Adrien. Very low. Remember that my health is tied to your transformation and I need good cheese to stay healthy!”

Then Plagg looked away and crossed his arms. “But if you must know, I stole some luck from Ladybug’s kwami while she was distracted to keep your identity secret. I included Ladybug in the spell too, because I’m a nice guy like that."

"What?!" Adrien barely kept himself from shouting. "You stole her magic? What if it hurts her?"

Waving away his objection, Plagg continued, "Nah, her kwami is the incarnation of good luck (not to mention a goody-two-shoes if you know what I mean). They’ll be fine. Ladybug has luck to spare. What's the worst that could happen? She loses at poker? Besides, it protects her identity too.” Then he smirked. “Besides, I’m not really sure how to get rid of it, so you’re stuck. The luck magic will make people doubt the truth. Isn't it better if we're all kept safe?"

Blowing out a breath, Adrien gave up. "Fine."

"Good," Plagg nodded smugly. "So go do your job, get me some cheese for the wait, _not American_ , and stop worrying so much."

Knocking suddenly interrupted their conversation. "Adrien? Are you almost done in there? Wardrobe is waiting for you."

"Yes, I'll be there in a moment," he called. Stuffing Plagg back into his bag by his face, he flicked open one of the tins of cheese he'd packed for the day. He also dumped in several knotted up packages of shiny baubles and extra cheese to keep Plagg occupied while Adrien worked. He’d learned that if he didn’t provide entertainment, Plagg would make his own, usually to Adrien’s detriment.

Next, Adrien removed his Miraculous ring and threaded it on a thin chain around his throat. At some point in the last year it had become a habit to keep it out of sight around his neck or in a pocket during photoshoots. Adrien didn’t want to risk someone like Hawk Moth recognizing it from a photo. He wondered if the stolen luck magic Plagg had taken from Ladybug had initially prompted his caution.

Taking one more deep breath to settle his nerves, he unlocked the door and walked out into the hall. The hovering aide immediately whisked him over to the wardrobe department. He detoured at the lockers along the way to lock up his bag and Plagg, knowing the kwami could easily escape if necessary.

In the hall he ran into Director Johann and his modeling partner for the day. Miki was a Japanese model he'd worked with before on several campaigns. "Adrien," Miki greeted him with a sweet, infectious smile which he couldn't help but return. "I'm so glad we get to work together again!"

“Me too,” Adrien answered with a friendly nod of his head.

"Are you ready for today's shoot?" Director Johann asked. He had his hands tucked into the purple pockets of his mandarin-styled, white-and-black, hound’s-tooth jacket. His auburn hair fell over his forehead in carefully styled locks.

"Of course, sir," Adrien answered.

"Well good," Director Johann replied with a toothy smile. It made Adrien want to squirm. "I'll be watching things very carefully today, from the bottom up. Your father has decided to cede me a bit more control in the company and there're going to be some staff and policy changes coming. Do your best today." On that ominous note, he gave them both a nod and strode away.

"So are you the Chat Noir to my Ladybug today?" Miki teased as she struck a heroic pose, perhaps trying to lighten the tense atmosphere left in the director's wake.

"It looks that way," Adrien answered wryly, his worry about his secret surging again despite Miki's efforts at cheer.

Miki's enthusiasm faltered. The petite model stepped closer, placed a hand on his arm, and looked up into his face seriously. "Is something wrong, senpai?"

Shaking away his fears, Adrien patted her hand with a fake smile and stepped away. Something like regret flashed across her face, but she quickly suppressed it. He blinked and only friendly concern shone from her eyes.

"Sorry, don't mind my mood," he said. “I just want to do a good job today.”

Cocking her head in a bird-like motion, she examined his face and slowly nodded. "Very well, but I’m sure you have nothing to worry about."

Then Miki sighed and braced herself, "Since your mood’s already sour, I might as well warn you in advance that Walter is fitting today." Adrien failed to completely contain his flinch. She grimaced in agreement. "I don't know which of us will draw the short stick, as they say. I was hoping that they'd give me one of those magnificent yoyos like Ladybug carries, something I could 'accidentally' hit him with, but they've already disabused me of that notion. Martin told me that the yoyo was incorporated into a circular jeweled buckle on the belt of the dress."

"I'll take him," Adrien said grimly, offering Miki his arm. She slipped her fingers into the crook of his elbow and walked with him down the hall.

"But you had to endure him last time too," she argued sotto voiced as the door opened and they were ushered into the brightly lit fitting room. The walls from floor to ceiling were stacked with bolts of fabric and drawers of embellishments. Manikins wearing today’s outfits, tables with sewing machines, and all the tools of the trade filled the rest of the room. Four fitting assistants waited inside.

"No one should have to endure him, but better me than you," Adrien insisted quietly as he angled his body in front of Miki protectively, hiding her in his shadow as he stepped forward towards the waiting  people.

"Finally," drawled a hated and familiar deep voice. Adrien looked up into Walter's watery blue eyes and drew a mental cloak of indifference over himself. The fitter licked his bright red lips as he coiled a measuring tape in his hand. Walter dragged his eyes down Adrien's body, not bothering to raise them back up to his face. "Well well well, have you grown even larger since I last saw you, my boy? You seem to be filling out in all the right places. I'll have to do a complete measurement set all over again, just in case. Get the sheet ready, Danielle."

It was utterly ridiculous. They were shooting in a couple of hours. All Walter needed to do was check the fit of the clothes and adjust a few seams if necessary. There was no legitimate reason to take Adrien’s measurements. Everyone knew it, but no one in the room had the authority to stop him. Walter made sure of that. It was all about exerting his power over the models. The more uncomfortable and unimportant he made them feel, the more he enjoyed himself.

The auburn-haired Danielle, probably an intern or new hire, hunched her shoulders over her clipboard and kept her head down. It looked like she knew what that meant just as well as the unfortunate models. As she turned, he saw a muscle ticking in her jaw. The jaw tick reminded him of Director Johann right before he ripped into someone, but probably because Adrien had just talked to him. However, as a new hire desperate to keep her job, Danielle was just as powerless as the rest of them. She stayed mute.

"I'll take the girl. Well come on then, we don't have all day." Selene, the other fitter, snapped her fingers impatiently and turned to the left side of the room where a red dress waited. She didn't seem to notice anything off about Walter's words or the tension in the room. She never did. Privately, Adrien thought it much more likely that she just didn't care what Walter did as long as he got his work done on time. Miki sent him a look of combined gratitude and apology as she followed after Selene.

Keeping his unemotional, professional mask in place, Adrien stepped up to Walter's table. He knew the score. The sooner he cooperated, the sooner he'd get to the actual photo shoot and put this behind him. He just had to keep his mouth shut.

Without asking, he stripped down to his underwear. He kept his gaze away from the other side of the room as a courtesy. Walter had no such compunction, staring across the room greedily as Miki disrobed. No one had bothered to set up privacy screens. He and Selene never bothered with such courtesies. You couldn't be very modest as a model, but there was professional necessity and then there were things like this, people like Walter. He kept trying to catch Miki’s eye so she’d feel even more uncomfortable, but Miki knew better than to give him the satisfaction.

"I'm ready," Adrien prompted protectively, trying to direct Walter's attention away from Miki and back to himself.

It worked. Walter turned and looked Adrien up and down. The model felt dirty as Walter licked his thick lips slowly and let the coils of his measuring tape unspool from his hand with a hiss. "You'll be in a full formal suit today, so the fit must be impeccable. I'm told there will be both wide shots and close-ups. I'm going to measure you, and then we'll check the fit of the suit and fix any problems. After that you'll consult with makeup and then have a short break. Don't go far. Then we'll dress you for the shoot and they'll finish styling you."

"I understand," Adrien murmured on rote. Walter was too good at his job to get fired. He sewed quickly, the better to slip in extra measurement taking, and precisely. He always knew just what to say to his bosses to kiss up. He made sure of that because he didn't want to lose the job perks. All fittings required touching the model, but Walter abused his position to fuel his own perversions and prop up his ego.

Walter got off on making the models uncomfortable. It was a power trip for him. He was a pervert and a bully. There was no way to win when you had a fitting with Walter, but you could keep from losing by not giving Walter the satisfaction of seeing you flinch and tense at his touches. It made the fitter sour instead of smug. Sometimes that was the only victory possible.

The one time Adrien had tried telling his father, he'd impatiently cut off Adrien's protests without listening and scolded him for his childish complaints about a necessary part of the job. His father had been stressed about work, but usually he was so intense in his protection that Adrien had thought it would be okay to interrupt him with the problem. It had been one of many lessons chipping away at his idolization of his father.

Sometimes he wondered if the protection and control served mainly to keep Adrien fit for his father's uses and image. It certainly didn't keep Adrien happy. His father never seemed that happy with him either.

He'd only brought Walter's unprofessionalism up in the first place because the other models were suffering too.  In the end, it hadn't mattered. When they saw that even Adrien, son of the head of the company, fail to make a difference, no one else bothered trying to complain anymore either.

Stepping up to Adrien until pressed almost flush against his back, Walter slid his hands across Adrien's skin and began slowly measuring, making sure to touch as much bare skin as possible. Adrien kept his body loose as if unaffected. Walter grumbled under his breath and touched more roughly, trying to elicit a reaction. Then the man's finger caught against the chain around Adrien's neck, making the Miraculous ring drag across Adrien's chest with a warm zing.

"You know you're being inappropriate," Adrien murmured unintentionally. He felt a flash of annoyance at himself. He hadn't meant to speak, but he might as well finish now since it was already too late. "You don't have to be this close to get my measurements."

"I'm just doing my job," Walter answered with a mean laugh, scraping his calloused thumb painfully across Adrien's chest and staring carefully at his face. Adrien wouldn't give him the satisfaction of flinching. He never should have said anything in the first place. He knew better. Now it would be even worse.

Only Chat Noir could get away with never biting his tongue on his thoughts. In Adrien's world, words had heavy consequences. Most of the time, those consequences were negative.

Walter seemed disgruntled by Adrien's lack of any reaction. Licking his lips, he sneered, "Is there anything else you'd like to tell me about how to do my job?"

At that point, Adrien would rather just get this over with as quickly and silently as possible, but then a little voice reminded him that it could be Miki standing frozen beneath Walter's damp palms today instead. The protective surge made him reply despite his better instincts. "No one else has a problem staying professional during a fitting," Adrien answered levelly. "You don't have to grope the models."

Suddenly a moist hand slid down his back and over his rear end. "You can't punish a man for enjoying his job," Walter breathed smugly as his fingers clamped onto Adrien's butt painfully. Against his will Adrien flinched. He'd have a bruise from that, not his first at Walter's hands.

However, Walter had angled himself so no one could see and made sure to only leave bruises where they'd be hidden by clothes. He had lots of practice at that. Then he moved around in front and smoothed his measuring tape from the hollow of Adrien's throat to down below his navel, calling out another number to his assistant.

Walter met Adrien's eyes with an ugly little smirk. "Besides, you models are all little lap dogs. You like the petting, especially your little girlfriend across the room."

"You're disgusting," Adrien said through gritted teeth. "Leave her alone or else," he hissed, barely managing to keep his temper leashed as he glared with the full measure of his hatred. At that moment, it wasn’t an empty threat.

Flinching, Walter shrunk back a step. Then his eyes turned ugly with anger and humiliation. Red choler rushed up into his cheeks. "Keep quiet, boy, or I'll have to lodge a complaint about you," he threatened, snapping the measuring tape in his hands.

Walter looked Adrien up and down and sneered. "We don't want your father hearing about you trying to sabotage a job with a childish tantrum, do we? Then again, everyone around here loves seeing him break the spoiled little prince down into a wet-eyed child, even if he has to do it from a computer screen since you aren't important enough to warrant a personal scolding." Danielle, his auburn-haired assistant, stood frozen with her head turned down.

"You may not be a professional, but I am. One day, the threat of my father's censure will no longer protect you," Adrien promised evenly.

"But it does today, little prince," Walter mocked in a sing-song voice. "It does today, so stand there like a good little boy and let me finish my job."

Hurt and anger swirled through Adrien's chest, but he knew better than to act on either emotion. Focusing on a piece of beaded lace peeking out of a cabinet across the room, he breathed out slowly and tried to release his negative feelings into the air. They weren't useful. Acting on them would only render him even more powerless. He'd already said too much.

Adrien made sure to keep his tongue leashed and his muscles loose after that. He kept his eyes unfocused as he gazed across the room. Walter made his touches lingering, uncomfortable, and inappropriate as he ordered Adrien to raise his arms and then spread his legs, punishing him for bothering to protest and trying to elicit another flinch. 

Luckily people began wandering in and out of the room, making the man exercise some restraint. Not as much as he should, but it could be worse. It could always be worse. At least Adrien never had to be alone with Walter. He used to have nightmares about that.

Slithering to his knees, Walter ran his fingers down Adrien's legs to his ankles. Then he spread his hands up and across the inside of Adrien's thighs. To maintain his cover, Walter kept calling out regular measurements, though his panting breaths left a disgustingly moist film on Adrien's skin. Adrien did his best to let his mind float free of his body and robotically endured the rest of fitting.

A delicate hand waving a water bottle in front of his face finally broke through his detachment. Blinking up, he saw Miki hovering over him. At some point he must have left the fitting room and sat down against the wall in the break room. Taking the water, he unscrewed the cap and took a sip. Then he tipped it back and gulped down half of the bottle. It made him feel a little better.

"Thank you," Miki said solemnly with a graceful bow when he looked up again, though he should be the one thanking her for the water. She slid down to sit next to him without touching. Her friendly presence helped even more. The ice that had taken up residence in his stomach began to thaw. Adrien slowly slumped against the wall, finally coming to a rest with a long sigh.

"I have an idea to cheer you up," Miki said softly into the silence. Holding up her phone, she tilted it so he could see the screen. "Plus, it's part of today's job," she added coaxingly. She was careful to still not touch him as she leaned close.

Years ago, it was Miki getting fitted by Walter that prompted him to go to his father in the first place. The petite Japanese girl shivered after those fittings, huddling in oversized sweaters in a corner until called to put on her professional face and get back to work. He'd wanted to save her, but he'd been powerless. He couldn’t even save himself.

Despite owning a Miraculous, Adrien still found himself powerless. All he could do was deflect Walter's attentions onto himself. Some days it seemed that the only people he could really save were strangers out on the streets. His powers never seemed enough to save his friends. He couldn't even keep Ladybug from getting hurt lately. Adrien never seemed to be enough. He was always a disappointment.

Luckily Miki understood the need for distance after a fitting from Walter, the need for a distraction. Miki was a good friend, one of the few he'd made in the modeling business. Her unspoken understanding allowed him to release more of his tension.

"This isn't another grumpy cat video, is it?" he asked with a shadow of his usual humor as she tapped on her phone.

Miki's lips curled with humor. "I'll pull that up next, good idea. First, however, a woman guaranteed to make you smile. This channel by kenzabug is new, but it already has thousands of hits. I just found it today. Check these videos out," Handing him an earbud to share, she hit play on her phone.

An electronica beat began building in his ears as the video showed the sun rising behind the spire of the Eiffel Tower. A piano joined the melody. Then a burst of violins and cellos surged triumphantly as a masked figure in red swung across the screen. Adrien couldn't help feeling warm bubbles of pleasure as he watched the fan-video of the superhero Ladybug swinging and flipping across Paris.

By the end of it, he found himself pressed shoulder to shoulder with Miki as they sighed in unison. "She's amazing," breathed the female model.

"I know," agreed Adrien wholeheartedly. Just seeing Ladybug had made him feel better and more centered.

Despite his online stalking of Ladybug, he hadn't known about kenzabug's youtube channel, so all of the videos were new to him. The next one showcased the teamwork of Ladybug and Chat Noir. It filled him with pride and satisfaction.

When the third video started, he felt himself start to blush. Kenzabug had set it to a popular romantic ballad. She even had a few videos he'd never seen before. At first, he felt embarrassed as the video showed his desperate early attempts to flirt with Ladybug, only to be shut down or gently pushed away. Despite her bad habit of showing up late for battles and patrols, once there, Ladybug took her job very seriously. She never seemed to have patience for his flirting when a super villain was on the loose.

However, as the video progressed, he felt his eyes go wide in shock. Somehow, he'd missed the way things had changed as they got older. Ladybug's initial exasperation had mellowed and changed to consideration and even indulgence. On the screen, a slightly taller and older Ladybug's pink lips curved as she turned her head away from Chat Noir's teasing. The camera focused on the wistful look on her face as an oblivious Chat slumped in the background.

Somehow, he'd missed the way she gazed at his profile thoughtfully when he wasn't looking, her appreciative looks when he executed a difficult move, the way her fingers would sometimes reach for his turned back after a battle, only to hesitate and then drop back to her side. The video finally ended with a shot of the two of them intimately gazing into each other's eyes, their foreheads pressed together, panting for breath at the end of a fight, their lips curving up with shared relief as they held each other's eyes.

A sharp pang of want shot through him. When had that moment happened? Was it after the fight with Pencil Pusher or someone else? He couldn't remember. However, it filled him with the urge to recreate it, to test his new understanding and make her do it all again, but this time to catch her at it. To catch those hovering fingers and this time, bring them to his lips, to his heart.

"They're amazing together," Miki remarked as another video started, this one much faster paced and focused on fighting. "I wonder if they really are a couple?"

"They should be," Adrien answered a bit more firmly than he'd intended.

Miki blinked in surprise and then giggled, leaning forward. "I think so too, but I didn't know you were such a romantic. Don't you have a crush on Ladybug yourself?"

Shrugging, Adrien looked away. "If not me, then Chat Noir is the second best choice," he said nervously.

"Fair enough," Miki nodded in agreement. "I want them to be together, but I wouldn't say no to a date with Chat Noir either. He is rather dreamy," she sighed in appreciation.

Adrien shifted uneasily. Her words made him a little uncomfortable. Despite her beauty, he just didn't see Miki that way. When they'd first met, she'd seemed to have a crush on him, but once they became friends she never pressed for anything more. He liked having a work friend he could trust, having Miki as a work friend. Their relationship had made for good chemistry in photos, so they'd gotten to work together a lot in the last couple of years.

"I just hope I can do Ladybug justice," Miki sighed.

Then she turned to Adrien gleefully, "Oh, just think! They might see our pictures! I hope they're flattered. Do you think they'd be willing to meet me? Let me take a selfie? I might die trying to ask, but if they said yes, wouldn't it be amazing!" Slumping back dramatically, Miki closed her eyes and sighed happily at her daydreams.

Adrien hadn't thought about Ladybug seeing his picture, but now that he did, it filled his belly with fire and his brain with calculations. For the first time, Ladybug would see both Adrien and Chat Noir at the same time, as the same person. He thought it would’ve happened before now, but she seemed to be avoiding him. Maybe this was his chance. He wanted to make her crazy, as crazy as she'd always made him.

A plan crystalized. Adrien knew he was attractive to girls, but for the first time, he planned on leveraging that as hard as he could.  This was his chance to make Ladybug not only see him as both Adrien _and_ Chat Noir, but also to make her desire him. When Ladybug saw these photos, he wanted her to feel his intensity. He wanted to unleash her desire, to make her want him, even if only for a second, the way he wanted her.

Just like their real suits, the only skin left uncovered would be on his face. At least he didn't have to work through a mask today. Perhaps a swimsuit shot would be easier to manipulate her with, but he was a professional. He didn't need to expose the bare lines of his body to evoke attraction.

Adrien would make Ladybug look. Could he make her breath catch? The muscles low in her belly clench? Would her eyes go wide and turn black? Could he make her yearn to touch him, the way he always yearned for her?

He could do this.

He _would_ do this.

Mind focused and humming as if going into battle, his lips curled up in a toothy smile. At the call to return, he helped Miki put away her headphones and phone. Then they returned to the prep room.

Chat wasn't used to losing. Dressed as Chat, Adrien wasn't about to start losing now. Instead of an akuma, he planned on capturing a lady's attention, but either way, he would win.

The excitement buffered him from Walter's disagreeable presence. Adrien confidently pulled on the coal black shirt and pants of his outfit. As he started doing up the buttons of the shirt, he found himself interrupted.

"Take off that ring hanging around your neck," Walter snapped. "It'll ruin the line of the shirt." His fingers reached out to snatch the dangling ring. "I'll take that."

Immediately Adrien stepped back out of reach and sent Walter a threatening, predatory stare that made the fitter freeze like a mouse. "Don't touch it," Adrien said with quiet menace. He forced himself to blink and release his breath. This wasn't a super villain. He had to stay calm. "I'm wearing a shirt, vest, billowing neck-cloth, and jacket. No one will see anything."

"But-," Walter tried to bluster, but the dangerous expression in Adrien's eyes made his voice falter.

For this, Adrien would not back down. This was his Miraculous. The source of his power and an object he'd sworn to protect. He wouldn't be parted from it.

"I said no," Adrien repeated unequivocally. Then he finished buttoning his black shirt, hiding away his ring, and tucked the shirt into the black slacks. He kept his eyes trained on Walter the entire time.

When Adrien finally dropped his eyes to do up the button fly, Walter took in a deep breath of air and then huffed. After a beat of tense silence, Walter snapped angrily, "Stop stalling and finish get dressed then, little prince." Walter roughly snatched up the delicately patterned bronze scarf off the table and flung it at Adrien. Looking up at the last minute, Adrien had to practically dive to catch it before it landed on the floor.

"Gently, you fool! You'll ruin the fabric!" snarled a loud voice from the doorway. Everyone jumped.

Looking up, Adrien saw the lead designer for the shoot, Cesar Bonapart, rushing over. His face looked red with apoplexy. He trailed a handful of assistants in his wake like ducks on a string.

Body tensing, Adrien straightened up slowly with the scarf cupped carefully in one hand. He braced himself for an unpleasant scolding and kept his expression smooth. Nothing he said could help. Nevertheless, he hated getting yelled at, especially for something that wasn't his fault. Walter sent him a triumphant sneer that made bile surge up Adrien's throat.

Then Bonapart reached their side. Gently picking up the scarf from Adrien's outstretched hand, he held it up to the light and spread it out, looking for runs in the fabric. Not finding anything, he released a breath and placed it softly back on the table.

Turning back to their frozen tableau, Bonaparte’s mouth twisted in angry displeasure. "This is unacceptable. Get out!" he snapped.

Confusion and dread pooled in Adrien's stomach. Hesitantly he took a step towards the door, trying to keep the feeling of sick nausea off his face. His father was going to kill him.

"What are you doing, Adrien?" Bonapart flung his hands up. "I didn't mean you. You're my Chat Noir, my star. I meant that beast, the brutish fitter."

Then he turned his angry gaze away from Adrien. Walter's face went red and then white as he realized that Adrien wasn't getting blamed after all. That he'd actually been caught behaving badly.

"Get out, Walter. Right now,” Bonapart demanded. “I won't have you destroying my work with your ham-fisted clumsiness. We can’t afford a setback of thousands of dollars in wasted man-hours and materials."

"But sir," Walter began weakly, licking his red lips and looking around desperately for an out. “I didn’t do any-.”

Bonapart slashed his hand through the air, cutting off his excuses. "No, I said get out! I'll be talking to your boss and to Director Johann later about your lack of professionalism and disrespect for my marvelous creations. Danielle, as Johann’s niece, can be our witness."

Shocked, Walter turned a face of snarling hatred at Adrien and Danielle both.

"I saw that," Bonapart snapped, "and will be adding it to my report. Now out! Don't make me say it one more time or else I'll have security throw you out just as carelessly as you threw my neck cloth at the ground. Your days here are numbered."

Grinding his teeth, Walter dropped his head and stumbled out the door. Adrien tried to keep the savage satisfaction off his face. When Bonapart looked back at Adrien, he made sure to avoid his gaze. He could see Miki's vindictive smirk from the corner of his eye. Even Danielle, Walter's assistant and Director Johann’s niece, looked coldly satisfied. Only Selene, the other fitter, looked bored.

Dismissing the incident in favor of higher priorities, Bonapart twirled away to examine the pieces making up the Chat Noir costume for damage. Once satisfied, he crossed the room to inspect the Ladybug dress. At his approach, Selene made sure to keep her head down and her mouth shut.

Apparently satisfied, he snapped his fingers at his assistants. "You two help me finish making Adrien into Chat Noir. Jean, go put the finishing touches on our Ladybug with Selene."

After several minutes of being dressed up like a doll and then being put through his paces like a show horse, Adrien was allowed a moment to himself as Bonapart left him to fuss over Miki's dress. At least the touches had all become impersonal now. He didn't mind it much. Bonapart could be intense during a photo shoot, but he definitely knew what he was doing to achieve his vision. Adrien had always respected his work.

The noise level rose as the jewelry arrived with a security escort. An older woman with steel gray hair and dressed head to toe in an electric blue velvet bodysuit followed the security guards into the room. She carefully placed a locked case on the table. "Monsieur Bonapart," she greeted respectfully. Lifting a key from her wrist, she unlocked the case and began pulling out a selection of watches and jewelry from the new Agreste accessory line. “Gorgeous as expected, Esme,” Bonapart said with professional delight. The two decorated Adrien with their selections. After consulting with Bonapart one final time, Esme closed and locked the case.

A hovering assistant with an asymmetrical blond haircut and maroon sheath dress took the box and then passed over a long bag of black velvet. Opening the golden drawstring at the top, she pulled out a cane from the bag. The cane boasted a silver pommel at the top circled by a band of labradorite, which boasted iridescent bands of green, blue, purple, and gray.

Balanced on her palms, she handed it carefully to Adrien with stern look. "All these pieces have been registered. Don't damage or try to steal them." Dismissing him from her attention, she missed his offended look as she strode over to help adorn Miki.

Coming back, Bonapart prodded Adrien to pose in front of the Mirror. Pursing his lips, he ran his hands impersonally across the shoulders and down the sleeves of the jacket, removing stray threads and straightening seams. "Now remember, you must be feline grace personified to do this outfit and the Chat Noir justice," he ordered flamboyantly as he fluffed the neck cloth one last time before stepping back. "Make them believe Adrien is Chat Noir, make them desire you and our brand."

Staring at himself steely-eyed in the mirror, Adrien silently promised to make Ladybug want the man in the photo, even if she didn't want to know that Chat Noir and Adrien were the same person.

Like Chat Noir, they'd dressed him in black. However, they'd eschewed literalism to focus on fantasy and giving artistic nods to the essence of the superhero instead. Adrien wore a formal, three-piece black suit with black gloves. They’d lined the inside of the black jacket with a green and bronze patterned fabric. Black oxfords covered his feet. Instead of a bell, they'd given him a billowing, brass-colored neck-cloth with a cat-shaped labradorite pin that matched the shifting green of his eyes.

Although mostly monochrome, the entire outfit had various black fabrics with different textures, patterns, shades, and sheen for visual contrast. The embroidery along the collar, vest, and shirt cuffs would make the outfit pop even more on camera. He felt a bubble of amusement when he noticed that the subtle geometric design of the embroidery and beading actually consisted of intertwining cats.

They'd left off the mask and ears as too literal. Instead they’d teased his hair into something with volume and structure. Subtle makeup highlighted the masculine planes of his face and gave his eyes a subtle, animalistic cast. The contrast of wild and restrained added to the drama. The monochrome color scheme made the jewelry pieces, decorative chains, rings, watch, and silver belt-buckle stand out, important in a shoot meant to sell accessories instead of clothing.

All in all, he looked rather magnificent. Several departments had come together very successfully to turn him into a dangerously suave and elegant looking man with a hint of barely restrained wildness. They'd captured the essence of feline without dressing him as a literal cat.

Now all he had to do was successfully play his part. Thinking of Ladybug's reaction to seeing his photo, he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath through his nose. Focusing on the confident and suave feeling he wanted, he opened his eyes, looked straight at the mirror, and smirked. Someone clapped their hands behind him and squealed with delight. The room fell into laughter and discussion.

"Wow," mumbled Danielle at his back. Dazed eyes met his in the mirror. She blushed a scarlet that matched her hair and quickly retreated to the back of the room.

"Perfect," beamed Bonaparte, coming up to pat him bracingly on the shoulder before spinning away. "Now, where is my Ladybug?" the designer demanded. “We need them as a set!”

Seconds later the people clustered around Miki parted to allow their Ladybug to come stand next to Adrien in the mirror. Miki sent him a wink before turning to examine herself. Adrien couldn’t help but feel a slight pang as he noticed all of the differences with his Ladybug. For starters, Miki lacked the athleticism and endearingly stubborn chin of his partner. She also had brown eyes instead of blue.

However, Miki had her own delicate beauty and made a stunning Ladybug for the campaign. She didn't have to look the same to successfully channel Ladybug's cheerful nature and determination to do her best, not to mention a teasing sense of humor. With Miki as his Ladybug, Adrien knew that this shoot was going to turn out amazing.

Billowing red fabric fell from her shoulders and down her back, fluttering at the slightest movement like wings about to take flight. Opera gloved covered her arms from fingertips to above her elbows. Rings and bracelets sporting rubies, moonstones, and various precious stones and gems stood out against the black of the opera gloves. In lieu of a necklace, the dress's high neckline clasped around her throat, making the bare, creamy skin of her upper arms practically glow. The red ombre fabric of the dress fell to the knee in front and to her ankles in the back. They'd lined the inside of the skirt with a translucent black fabric that made the inside of the skirt into a dark red shadow with inky folds. Slinky scarlet heels with black accents wrapped around her petite feet and strapped with two bands on her slim ankles. A black beaded belt circled her waist. It had a large, jeweled ladybug clasp positioned on one side, the only obvious ladybug on her outfit.

The stylists had slicked Miki's dark hair flat against her head into two low pigtails and then teased the ends into riotous poofs. Over this they placed a red headband decorated with black diamonds. From her earlobes dangled spherical rubies and moonstones accented with chips of black diamond. The stylist had painted her lips scarlet and done something to her eyes to make them look larger, an enticing combination of innocence and danger. The red and black colors emphasized the soft cream of her skin and the warmth in her confident brown eyes. 

Miki looked gorgeous, a fitting tribute to his Ladybug. Placing a hand on her hip, Miki grinned at herself in the mirror and then met his eyes. Adrien couldn't help but smile back. This would be fun.

Taking her hand, he bowed over it and dropped a kiss on her gloved knuckles. "You look purr-fectly breathtaking, my dear Ladybug." He smiled up at her through his lashes, fighting to keep his seductive look from turning into an amused chuckle at the glee shining in her eyes.

Slipping her hand from his fingers, Miki gently tapped him on the nose in reproof and fought her own battle to keep her lips from twitching. "None of that, my silly tomcat. We're not even in front of the cameras yet."

The room held its breath as they smiled into each other's eyes. Then Miki's character broke and she began to giggle. Adrien couldn't help but join in with his own chuckles. Yes, this was going to be fun.

"Magnificent, the both of you!" Bonapart exclaimed, clasping his hands under his chin with happiness and practically swooning. "Just keep the giggling to a minimum and you will be true superheroes of the fashion world! Now, let us move on."

Offering his arm, Adrien escorted Miki to the set. They had a room full of formal furniture and a balcony overlooking the garden for their backdrops today. After a few test shots to check the lighting, the photo shoot began in earnest.

Shaking off his inhibitions, Adrien did his best to embody the exhilaration and confidence of Chat Noir. By his side, Miki confidently channeled her idea of Ladybug. The two of them slowly moved from pose to pose at the photographer's direction.

"Ladybug, put your hand on his chest but keep your body angled out," ordered the photographer. "Chat Noir, let's try some shots without the cane. Jean would you take that? Good. Now Chat, give me a few different reactions to her touch, to her leaning against you, trusting you."

Stepping closer, Miki turned to him as ordered and placed a hand on his chest. Her fingers landed on the bump made by his Miraculous ring, which he probably shouldn't be wearing during a photo shoot but he didn’t care. The confident and cool expression she'd been wearing slipped. For a second, Miki shot him a sideways look of surprise at finding him actually breaking the rules. Adrien almost never broke the rules. He could feel himself flush guiltily. Miki's eyes glittered with amusement. The shutter of the camera clicked with staccato endorsement of their expressions.

After an indulgent pat, Miki moved her hand over to clasp his bicep. Then she twisted her body to look over her shoulder, making her earrings sway and catch the spotlights. They should be due for a break soon. He was sweating and tired. His feet hurt and he wasn't even in heels. Miki must be exhausted. Adrien leaned down as if to whisper a secret in Miki's ear, making sure to keep most of his accessories out of the shadows cast by her body. He could see his breath stirring the wisps of hair at Miki's temples, damp from sweating beneath the hot lights and more of a dark brown with auburn highlights than the true blue-black of Ladybug's hair.

Despite all of the beauty products, the base of Miki's scent smelled good, like wisteria, rice powder, and green tea. Breathing in the familiar scent of his beautiful friend, he unconsciously let a feeling of contentment flood his body, curving himself closer, going heavy lidded, and sighing into the curve of her neck. A faint pink suffused her skin as a hint of spice rose from her body. But somehow the spiciness wasn't pushy, just pleasant.

When his Ladybug's scent went spicy, it made him restless, made him want to do things. He was lucky to have Miki as a friend. She didn't expect anything from him but his friendship. There were no big secrets hanging over their relationship. Adrien could trust her and relax.

Seconds later he found himself leaning his weight against the hand on his chest.  Although he gave her no warning, she didn't stumble. Miki stood firm and protective, his partner in modeling, bearing up his weight for the few seconds until he could snap himself back to work.

They tried a few shots of Chat lounging at Ladybug’s feet as she moved around him with bold confidence. Then finally they got permission to take a break. "Good, good!" praised the photographer. “Go sit down while we change scenes.”

The crew swarmed out quickly to set up the balcony shots. Adrien followed Miki to a couch in the back. They sprawled out, put bibs on to protect their outfits, and had a few snacks and drinks. Hair and makeup touched up their appearance and then sent them back out.

After about ten minutes of moving in circles around the balcony, the photographer finally found the best angle to send wind lofting through the gauzy wings of Ladybug's dress. He took several artistic wide shots of Adrien crouched vigilantly on the railing holding his cane while Ladybug stood on the other side of the balcony, her dress's fabric billowing and fluttering as if trying to take flight.

"Good. Now Ladybug, join him by the railing," the photographer ordered. "Chat, sit down and cross your legs indolently."

As Miki walked over, the point of her heel unexpectedly caught on a crack between two tiles. She tripped and began to fall with a cry of pain. Adrien dived, catching Miki before she could hit the ground and spinning her around and up against his chest. His heart pounded.

"Are you alright?" he demanded.

"My foot," she whimpered.

Somebody on the crew called for a medic as he swept back into the main room and laid her down on the decorative chaise they'd used earlier. "The strap on her heel snapped," Adrien muttered as he slipped the scarlet shoe off her foot and handed it to Bonaparte’s hovering fingers. Splotchy red marks stretched from her ankle to the top of her foot and side of her arch.

"I don't think it's broken," Miki said tightly as she rotated her ankle carefully. A pillow was propped beneath her foot.

"It's definitely going to bruise though," Adrien winced sympathetically.

Director Johann came striding in on the heels of the medic, a lanky woman named Adiva sporting a magenta hijab. Adiva gave Miki a quick examination. "It's not broken," she confirmed. "You got lucky with a mild sprain. Ice it and try not to put any weight on it for the next day or two."

"Can she finish the photo shoot?" Bonapart asked insistently. His eyes looked a little crazy at the thought of postponing anything. Director Johann stood at his shoulder with his arms folded unhappily.

Adrien felt a surge of protective anger for his friend, but before he could say the words on the tip of his tongue, Miki touched him lightly on the wrist. When he met her eyes, she shook her head. "I can still work," she announced with stoic serenity.

"It's up to her," said Adiva, pulling herself to her feet. The beads on the hem of her hijab swayed. "Just don't make her put weight on that foot."

While Adrien sat next to Miki and kept the bag of ice from falling off her foot, Bonapart, Johann, the photographer, and several crew members conferred feverishly on the other side of the room. They scrolled through the current shots on a large monitor connected to the camera.

Then Bonapart came over and crouched down by the chaise. "Here's where we're at with the shoot," he explained. "We love what we have so far, but it's not enough. For the full editorial spread, we really need at least one or two more pictures from outside with distinct poses. I'm sorry to ask this of you, Miki, but I need you to press on just a little bit longer?"

Miki nodded. She was a professional. "As long as you don't make me put weight on that foot, I can do it. I just don't think I can make it hold my weight," she apologized.

"I'll hold your weight for you," Adrien promised.

Shaking her head fondly, she gave him a wry smile, "You already saved me, hero. Thank you for keeping me from falling flat on my face. However, I don't think the real Ladybug would let Chat Noir carry her around in his arms like she was helpless. Not unless she was half dead. Ladybug would rather hop around on one foot than give Chat an opening like that. She’s too proud."

Placing a hand on his heart, Adrien leaned back, "That's harsh! Not untrue, but very harsh to poor Chat Noir."

Bonapart chuckled and shook his head. "Thank you, Miki. To start with, we'll move the chaise onto the balcony and let Ladybug lounge across it for the next few shots. Depending on how your foot is doing, we'll then see if any standing poses are feasible. I'll send makeup over to cover up the swelling and we'll get rid of the rest of it in post-production." Then he patted her on the hand and left.

"I'm sorry," Miki said softly, looking down at her foot.

"It's not your fault," Adrien insisted gently. "Accidents happen." He gently nudged her shoulder with his. "Besides," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "I'd rather work with you and a bum ankle than with a completely mobile Maxine. Last job we worked, she dug her heels into the top of my foot twice. Twice! She said it was an accident, but I have my doubts."

Snorting softly, Miki shook her head with a smile. "Well if Maxine is the alternative, I suppose sticking with me is logical. We can't have both of the top models injured. At least I only injure myself and not my coworkers."

"That's because you're a good partner," Adrien praised.

"Well, so are you," Miki smiled back.

After makeup took care of the red and blue colors streaking across Miki's ankle, they carefully strapped the repaired high heel back on and resumed the photo shoot. Twenty minutes in, Miki took a deep breath and announced. "I want to stand up again. I have an idea. Help me up," she put her hand out imperiously. Worried, Adrien nevertheless gave in to her demand and helped pull her to her feet. He kept his arm firmly around her waist, barely letting her put any weight on her feet at all.

"What's your plan, Ladybug?" the photographer asked.

Sending him a confident smile, Miki explained. "I'm going to lean on Adrien again, lift my leg up, and fiddle with the strap of my shoe. It will show off the heels and give Chat the option of either looking down at me while I'm looking away or else looking out on guard while I'm distracted. Either composition could scan well for the camera."

"I like it," he nodded.

"I won't let you fall," Adrien reassured her.

"Of course not," Miki gave him an amused smile and patted him. "Not only do I trust you to keep me safe, I trust you to know that I'd get revenge if you dropped me."

They shared a laugh and then began the delicate process of creating an effortless and natural-looking pose. Pivoting slowly in Adrien's arms, Miki braced one hand on his chest, slid up her leg, and carefully leaned over to fiddle with the strap of her shoe. She had to turn a bit more than was probably comfortable to make sure she kept her face open to the camera, but she didn't let any of the strain reach her face. Adrien could only tell by the tensing of her body beneath his hands. He widened his stance and placed one hand firmly on her back, shifting minutely until he felt her muscle strain disappear as he found the right angle.

"Ladybug, that's perfect," the photographer praised. "Don't look at Chat, he's your pillar. You can take his support for granted. A little more confident and distracted there, yes, yes perfect." The camera clicked continually as he spoke.

Adrien made sure to vary his expressions to give the photographer a range of options. If Ladybug really were distracted like this though, he'd be fondly exasperated but guarding her back. Letting the cane in his hand slide down through his fingers until he grasped the shaft, he slowly peered around the room distrustfully.

"Oh, yes, more of that, Chat Noir," the photographer directed urgently. "But more dangerous! Now your Ladybug's hurt, she's bleeding, taking a brief rest in your shadow and trusting you to shelter her until she’s ready. She's not worried because you're there. She's confident and feels safe, but you can see what she can't, you can see the danger. The camera is the enemy. It’s threatening to expose her secrets to your enemies. Chat Noir, you have to protect Ladybug, keep them from taking her."

For a brief second, Adrien's imagination overcame his common sense. He dropped his head, letting hair cover his eyes. It was only too easy to picture such a tense scene. He was already stressed and feeling protective towards Miki. In that moment, he didn't hear the click of the camera or see the balcony of the modeling studio. He forgot to pretend.

Adrien became Chat Noir. He felt a Parisian breeze ruffling his hair, the heat of his wounded partner by his side, and the weight of the weapon in his hand. The glint of the camera lens morphed into a malevolent eye.

Protective rage surged through Chat's chest as he looked up through his hair and glared threateningly at the camera. Tugging Ladybug possessively against his body, he clenched his hand around his cane and then twirled it just once to make sure he knew the weight of it in the air. Ladybug offered up no resistance, swaying into his hold and leaning against him trustingly.

Distantly he heard someone in the back of the room gasp loudly. The camera went wild. Looking down, he met the brown eyes of his partner, _brown_ , and remembered again that this was all acting. Taking in a slow breath, he forced himself to blink, relax his fingers from their clutch on Miki's back, and focus on showing off the chains and rings he was selling, along with the beauty of the model by his side. For the rest of the shoot, though, he felt unsteady.

Later, after the makeup had been washed off and he'd returned to his normal clothes, Adrien slipped his miraculous ring back onto his finger with a relieved sigh. Not wearing it on his finger always made him feel tense.

On his way out, Adrien found himself stopped in the hall by Bonapart. "Adrien, good job today," he praised.

"Thank you, Sir," Adrien said automatically, not expecting more of the exchange. However, Bonapart didn't drift off, just examined Adrien’s face in silence.

"You surprised me today," Bonapart finally admitted. Adrien felt his eyebrows rising in surprise. Tilting his head benevolently, Bonapart explained. "I didn't know you could produce that much intensity. Originally I campaigned for a different male model because you're famous for being cool, collected, and in control. For this shoot, I wanted my Chat Noir to seem a bit wild and untamed. I was over-ruled since Miki works best with you and we knew we wanted her." He paused to let Adrien digest his words, then he finished. "You've matured as a model. I was wrong. After today, I'd have no qualms working with you again in any capacity. You impressed me."

Unexpectedly, Adrien felt his throat tighten at the genuine praise. "Thank you," he repeated much more roughly and sincerely.

"I look forward to working with you again," Bonapart said with a nod. Then he continued on his way down the hall.

Feeling slightly dazed, Adrien rubbed the ring sitting once again on his finger as he made his way out to the waiting car and his ride home. 


	5. The Last Ladybug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the story summary. I also posted fashion pictures on my Indygodusk tumblr of outfits that inspired me when writing chapter 4. http://indygodusk.tumblr.com/
> 
> Warning: assisted suicide of elderly OC using magic

Marinette watched in dismay as her flailing elbow knocked into a pan of macarons sitting on the edge of the counter. The pan wobbled and then began sliding towards the floor. Diving desperately, she managed to catch the tilting pan and shove it back to safety, though she banged her knee painfully against the cabinet in the attempt. Three cookies tumbled off onto the floor, but at least it wasn't all of them. Then again, it wasn’t like these macarons tasted as good as her father’s anyways, she thought mean-spiritedly.

"Woah, close shave there, girl, but good save," Alya whistled. "I thought you were getting better with the klutz attacks lately."

Sighing, Marinette sent Alya a woebegone look. "I have been getting better, a lot better. It's just seems like when I'm really stressed the clumsiness comes surging back."

"Can I do anything else to help with the stress?" Alya asked. "I know things are rough lately. I'm sorry I can't come over much. I barely managed to get over today, but luckily my boss called and told me not to show. No job plus no attack to cover on the Ladyblog means I’m all yours for,” she looked at her watch and winced, “about five more minutes."

Marinette shook her head and smiled. "You've already done a lot, helping me out in the bakery whenever you have free time. I know you're really busy with your internship and getting ready for college."

"I'm never too busy for my bestie," Alya promised with a smile. "I wouldn’t leave, but I promised to help Nino rewire the sound system at his gran’s retirement home. You’re invited to help too if you can get away.”

Wrinkling her brow, Marinette looked around. Amazingly, it looked like things were mostly caught up, thanks to Alya’s help this morning. Then again, there was always more work to do with her dad out and Francois still learning. “Maybe, we’ll see,” she said weakly, but she probably wouldn’t. Her dad would be disappointed if she left Francois alone in the back without help, even with her mom helping customers out front.

Shrugging, Alya said, “No pressure. How is your dad doing, by the way?"

Groaning, Marinette answered, "The broken arm is healing well. It's just slowing him down a lot and making him miserable. He hates not being able to bake. He can't even play video games with all his extra free time since you can’t play fighting games with just one hand on the controller. Dad pushes himself so hard that the pain gets almost unbearable, but he doesn't like taking his pills. We've had to come up with creative ways to get him to take them. Sometimes, he gets so surly that my mom won't let him even work the front counter, which just makes his mood worse. Usually he’s so even tempered that it's just hard to see him like this, though he has been getting better lately…."

Alya bumped against her side gently. "Because of your cousin, Francois? Has having him around helped?"

"Of course I've helped!" exclaimed a hearty voice from behind them.

Marinette jumped back in surprise and banged her face into the corner of the upper cabinet. _Ouch_ , she mouthed to herself, rubbing her cheek. That was going to leave a bruise. Alya just shook her head with pity at Marinette’s capacity to injure herself.

Turning, Marinette saw Francois slide two trays of steaming bread onto the cooling rack. "The bakery is lucky I decided to move to Paris so suddenly. Not only do I bake a mean loaf of bread, but I also make a handsome addition to the bakery. Isn't that right, Mar-bear?"

Marinette hated that nickname. Unfortunately, asking him to stop again probably wouldn't accomplish anything. Last time she’d tried, he’d tugged on her pigtail and leaned down to speak directly in her ear. “Maybe if you acted less growly, I’d call you something sweeter.” Because of his hold on her hair, she hadn’t been able to step back from the uncomfortable situation. Still looming over her, he’d shifted just enough for her to see his shark-like smile. “Remember, only good little girls get nice things.”

Before she could figure out how to respond, the doorbell chimed as several customers came into the bakery. After one more tug, Francois finally let her hair go so she could man the counter. Whistling softly to himself, he’d returned to his work back in the kitchen.

It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that Marinette was starting to hate Francois.

However, the bakery was once more keeping up with orders, the cases were full, and the stress lines on her parent’s faces were fading. She couldn’t jeopardize that with a tantrum over a little teasing. If Francois got offended and left, they’d be right back in the same trouble as before.

Marinette just had to suck it up.

Pushing down her feelings, Marinette breathed in through her nose slowly and then forced herself to smile politely. "Of course, Francois. We probably wouldn't be able to keep the bakery open if you hadn't moved in. We’re very grateful."

Wiping his hands off on his apron, he turned a wide smile on Alya, who’d been looking at Marinette with a tinge of puzzlement. "You must be that amazing friend Marinette is always talking about. She mentioned funny and brave, but not what a cutie you are," he looked her up and down appreciatively and winked.

Giggling, Alya shook his hand and then shook her head with mock sternness. "If I've told that girl once, I've told her a thousand times, mention my good looks first."

"Perhaps its jealousy," he teased, throwing an arm around Marinette's waist and squeezing. He didn't seem to notice how she tensed in his hold. "She does look a fright first thing in the morning when she stumbles downstairs, half-awake with her tight little pajamas on inside out. Luckily she cleans up well or she'd scare away all the customers. Maybe we should hire you instead."

Sliding silently out of his hold, Marinette kept her face even as she grabbed a broom and brusquely swept up the last of the macaron crumbs.

Laughing again, Alya took off her apron and hung it up on the wall. "Both a hard worker and a charmer? The bakery is lucky to have you, but not, alas, lucky enough to have me."

"Are you leaving already? What a heart-breaker," Francois pouted, sliding his hand across Marinette's back and balancing on her shoulder as he grabbed a jar off the shelf above her head. "I shall have to console myself with my work and hope that the pastry will soak up my tears."

"As long as you don't make those pastries bitter," Alya winked. "But I’m sure a guy like you won’t have trouble finding a girl to console you. It was nice meeting you, Francois, but I do have to be off."

"Thanks again for coming over, Alya," Marinette said, twisting away from Francois's touch to walk her friend to the door.

"I told you not to worry about it," Alya scolded lightly as she picked up her bag and opened the door. "I'm just glad you have a good guy like Francois living here now to help out until your dad gets better."

"So, you like him?" Marinette asked hesitantly.

"Of course, he's a charmer. You’re lucky I’m dating Nino or else I might tempt him into taking me to the movies. Then Chloe wouldn’t be the only girl going out with a cute older man,” wrinkling her nose, Alya smirked. “Don't worry. Any family of yours is family of mine, right? Besides, with him to help out, I bet your dad will feel better about the bakery and stop being so grouchy," Alya patted her arm and turned to leave. "You guys got lucky with him."

Marinette returned her smile weakly. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Turning to go back into the bakery, Marinette saw Francois’s broad back through the doorway and felt a surge of bile. She swallowed hard. “You know what, Alya? Maybe I will come and help you and Nino out today.”

“Awesome!” Alya cheered.

Grinning back at her friend, Marinette snatched her coat off the hook inside the door and raced away with her friend. This little rebellion would probably be met with negative consequences, but she didn’t have it in her to care. She needed a break.

“Marinette,” Tikki whispered, “are you sure this is a good idea? Your parents expect you to stay and help out today.”

“I’ll be back. I just need a little break,” Marinette answered sotto voice before she skipped forward to thread her arms through Alya’s.

Getting to the retirement home and fixing the sound system only took a couple of hours.

"Thanks again for your help, girls," Nino said as he packed away his soldering iron.

Smiling over her shoulder as she swept up the remnants of cut wires, Marinette shook her head. "I told you that it's no problem. I think it's great that you volunteer regularly at the retirement home. I wish you would have invited me sooner!"

Smiling awkwardly, Nino scratched the back of his head and looked away. “I’ve invited you at least three or four times before, Marinette. This is just the first time you’ve ever actually shown up.”

At Marinette’s embarrassed flinch, Nino rushed to add, “But I’m super grateful you came. You and Alya made a tricky job so much more manageable. Thank you.”

Red-faced, Marinette ducked her head and returned to sweeping. Alya crouched down to hold the dustpan for Marinette’s broom. "We all know that crazy stuff happens in Marinette-land,” Alya defended loyally. “I’m just glad we could help you out this morning and rescue the dance party for the residents here."

"Me too," Nino said with a quick smile for his girlfriend as he finished packing up his tools. "The people here deserve all the happiness they can get, especially my gran. I offered to give everyone a free concert, but they're not really fans of my type of music and vice versa, if you know what I mean," Marinette and Alya giggled, imagining a room full of octogenarians bobbing their heads in time to Nino's beats. "But I'm just glad I can keep their ancient audio equipment working with the help of my lovely assistants," he nodded at them gratefully.

Alya smiled up at him fondly, "You're a great guy, babe. They're lucky to have you helping out."

Scratching the back of his head, Nino blushed, "I mean, it's not anything big like Ladybug and Chat Noir, but I like the feeling of helping people out where I can."

Despite being inside the closet replacing the broom, Marinette stretched her head over her shoulder to insist, "Don't put yourself down like that. To the people looking forward to a night of music and dancing, you are a hero, Nino."

"That's right," Alya chimed in, threading her arm through Nino's and dropping a kiss on his cheek as Marinette came out of the closet.

A faint ping of envy went through Marinette, though she tried not to let it show on her face. Some days she wondered if she'd ever be in a relationship like that. It would be nice to have someone to lean on, a boy who'd thread his fingers with hers and bump comfortingly against her shoulder, who'd drop kisses on her cheek as if his affection were as natural and constant as the current of a river, where the storms of life would cause his love to only swell deeper and quicker. Someone who'd look at her as if she hung the moon and stars, who would flirt with her and actually mean it.

Marinette had learned to suppress her hopeless crush on Adrien. She'd even gone on dates with a string of boys from school and had two boyfriends. Unfortunately, their interest never lasted. Those boys were nice, but not very exciting. Even when she forced herself to fake enthusiasm, they always ended up dropping her when her constant disappearances, lies, and excuses made their affections wear thin. None of them seemed interested in a relationship that wasn’t easy.

Being Ladybug meant sacrifice. She'd given up her honesty and her parent’s respect to be Ladybug. She might have to give up her dream of college and designing a world-renowned fashion line before the age of twenty-five. Until they finally defeated Hawk Moth, it seemed like she'd have to give up her dream of an open, loving relationship too.

A low gurgle interrupted her musings. "All of this work has made me hungry," Nino said defensively. "Lunch?"

Seeing the way Alya and Nino smiled into each other's eyes, Marinette suddenly felt hollow. "You guys go on without me," Marinette said.

They turned to her with matching frowns. "Why?" Alya demanded. "We all deserve lunch for our miraculous fix of this ancient stereo system."

"I'm not hungry," she demurred. "Besides, you two deserve some alone time."

Nino hesitated, "Are you sure? You're welcome to come along. Just because I’m dating Alya doesn’t mean I’m not still your friend too, or that we can’t all hang out as friends."

"Nah, I'm good. I've still got a few things to do anyways. You guys go and have fun." Marinette shooed them off.

"If you insist," Alya said, giving her a look and a sideways hug.

Marinette nodded firmly. “I do.”

After pulling on their coats, they walked to the front door. They stopped to tell the receptionist that the party music was back on the schedule and then stepped outside in the sunshine. Marinette squinted at the brightness.

Despite it being mid-December, the day felt unseasonably warm. Marinette wore three layers, a hat, and a scarf. Sweat instantly prickled in the small of her back and began pooling at her waistline. "Talk to you later, sweetie," Alya waved.

"Bye, guys," said Marinette as she quickly pulled off her hat and scarf and unbuttoned her coat. Pulling open the sides of her coat, she sighed with relief at the waft of cool air on her torso. The couple went right, so Marinette turned and instinctively retreated left to get some distance.

She'd only walked around the corner when she realized that by retreating left, she'd reinforced the bad habit Chat was always nagging her about. When she left somewhere, she always wanted to go left. Maybe her left foot was shorter than her right or something.

"Just think about what you’re doing and stop always going left. Be more random!" a chibi-Chat ordered in her mind. It sounded easy, but putting it into practice was hard.

Bad mood ballooning, she swerved into the small garden bordering the senior center. Rose bushes holding stubborn winter blooms and wrought-iron benches sporting skirts of brittle ivy bordered a small path shaded by empty tree branches.  

"Are you alright, Marinette?" Tikki asked from inside her open purse.

Shaking her head, Marinette looked down at Tikki and apologized. "Sorry, I'm fine. I’m just being silly and feeling sorry for myself about being single and unreliable."

Then she saw a flutter of red from the corner of her eye. Looking over, she couldn't help but smile as her bad mood began to lift. Lifting her purse up to her face, she tipped it towards the building.

"Look, Tikki," Marinette whispered. "See that bush beneath the open window? It's positively covered in ladybugs. Aren’t they beautiful?"

"There must be someone very special living inside that room," Tikki mused curiously, peeking over the edge of the bag and up at the window. "Let's get closer."

"Alright," Marinette shrugged, not having anywhere else to be.  When they got to the bush, Tikki quickly glanced around to make sure they were unobserved. Then she darted inside. The ladybugs all converged on her, buzzing intently.

A few seconds later, Tikki exclaimed, "Oh! Oh my!" and came shooting out of the bush, darting into the open window above.

Shocked, it took Marinette several moments to react. "Tikki!" she finally hissed, "What are you doing? You’ll be seen! Get back here!"

Looking around anxiously, Marinette didn't know what to do. Should she wait? Or should she climb up into the room after Tikki?

After several minutes with no sign of Tikki's return, she firmed her lips and pushed behind the bush. Despite her caution, she still almost lost her shoe and rolled her ankle on a protruding root. Tapping her shoe back on firmly, Marinette peered around one more time to make sure the garden was still deserted. Then she grabbed the window frame and hoisted herself up quietly onto the windowsill to look inside.

The small room held only a nightstand covered with knickknacks and greeting cards, a pair of folding chairs, and a bed made up with a pale blue blanket and white sheets. At first she thought the room deserted, but then Marinette saw a movement in the bed. What she'd taken for a decorative pillow was actually a head of fine white hair on a petite figure. The small woman seemed focused on something by her side.

Suddenly, Tikki popped up to hover above the bed. "Marinette!" she waved excitedly.

Marinette jumped in surprise and almost fell back out of the window.

"Come and meet Marlene!" Tikki beamed.

The figure in the bed slowly turned, revealing an ancient-looking woman. Her fine-boned face had wrinkled skin that looked almost translucent in the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window. Her trembling fingers pushed down on the bedspread with difficulty, propping the woman, Marlene, further up on the pillows. Despite the white hair and wrinkles, Marlene's eyes, the brown of melted chocolate, sparkled with joy and vitality.

"Hi," Marinette waved awkwardly, stumbling off the windowsill and into the room.

Marlene looked her up and down with consideration. Then her face creased into a wide grin. For a brief second, the years dropped off her face and Marinette felt the strangest sense of kinship.

"I never thought to meet with my dear Tikki again, much less her Ladybug," Marlene said with pleasure as Tikki swooped back down to brush a fond hand against Marlene's cheek. "What is your name, Ladybug?"

Completely out of her depth, Marinette stepped up to the side of the bed. She felt like she was floating at the bottom of a swimming pool. There seemed to be a strange pressure in her ears. It muffled the sound of her footsteps and tightened her throat, stifling her words.

Nevertheless, Tikki seemed completely at ease and stared at Marinette expectantly. Marinette had to trust in Tikki. She pushed past the heavy pressure to speak. "I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng. It's a pleasure to meet you, Madame.”

The strange pressure in her ears popped. Tikki jerked, a shocked expression taking over her face, followed by fury. Blinking in confusion, Marinette met Tikki's eyes, but the kwami flattened her expression and shook her head. Where Marlene couldn’t see, Tikki made a gesture meaning _later_.

"The pleasure is all mine, dear Marinette, but please, call me Marlene. There can be no formality between people like us," she insisted.

Crinkling her brow, Marinette said, "I'm sorry, but I don't quite understand. What do you mean, people like us?"

"I got ahead of myself, I see." Marlene threw back her head as if to laugh loudly, but instead only produced a paper-thin chuckle that turned into a cough. Marlene had to close her watering eyes as she wrestled with her body to stop convulsing and just breathe. Feeling helpless, Marinette handed her a tissue when her eyes opened.

Dabbing her face dry, Marlene finally dropped the crinkled tissue and met Marinette's eyes wryly. "You'll probably find it hard to believe, but once upon a time, people called this old crone Ladybug."

Breath arrested, Marinette's mind spun as twenty questions all battled to get out at once. Finally she gained control of herself. "You were Ladybug? Like me?" she looked between Marlene and Tikki for confirmation.

Tikki caressed the old woman's cheek lovingly. "She was a marvelous Ladybug."

"We had a lot of good times, didn't we, Tikki?" Marlene whispered.

"Indeed we did," Tikki confirmed.

"What happened?" Marinette asked, still unable to articulate the million specific questions zipping about her head.

Marlene sighed and looked away. "Like you, I once flew across the skyline of Paris defending the city with my partner, Chat Noir, by my side. After many battles, we finally defeated the great evil of our day." Sadness pulled down the sides of her mouth. "Then I said goodbye to my dear friend Tikki as she returned to the chosen protector of the kwami, going into hibernation and recharging against future need. Your need, I suppose."

Turning back, Marlene forced a smile. "I returned to normal life, a little less normal than the other girls. I had some adventures, found a husband, had a family, and created a lasting legacy that will endure even after I'm gone. It was a good life."

"I'm so glad," Tikki said earnestly. "I hoped for so many good things for you. I'm not surprised at all that you succeeded."

"Yes, it was a good life, but," Marlene hesitated, "I've always had one big regret itching at me over the years. After we won the battle, I never saw my friend Chat Noir again."

Marinette's stomach dropped and a gasp escaped her throat. "He died?" she asked in a strangled voice.

"Oh, no, nothing so dire, my dear," Marlene soothed, reaching out to take Marinette's hand. "It's merely that I never learned his secret identity. He didn't want us to share it for fear that it would put us in further danger. He'd gotten captured and interrogated early on in our partnership, you see, and feared that it would happen again and he'd be forced to betray me. That man’s stubbornness was legendary. The one time I tried to force the issue, he put his fingers in his ears and chanted “lalala” until I gave up." Marlene rolled her eyes with fond exasperation. “That cat drove me crazy.” She gave a chuckle.

After pausing a moment to regain her breath, Marlene continued. "After winning the final battle, we became separated. I quickly transformed out of Ladybug." Her cool fingers clutched at Marinette's. "We didn't realize that our kwami would be leaving so soon."

"I'm sorry," Tikki apologized softly. "I can't control when I enter and leave the cycle. None of us can."

"Dear Tikki, I hold no grudges. I forgave you long ago," Marlene soothed.

Then she returned to Marinette and her story. "Without my yoyo, I couldn't radio Chat anymore. We had no way to contact each other and no way to recognize each other without the masks. I've never stopped looking, but there are a great many Parisians with coal black hair, chestnut eyes, and a deplorable sense of humor."

Marinette couldn’t help but join in on her soft laughter. "My Chat Noir has an awful sense of humor too. He loves puns, especially any pun even remotely related to cats."

"Oh dear," Marlene's lips quirked, "I can only imagine."

Then Marlene turned back to Tikki. "Now that I'm talking to you again, my friend, I have to ask. Did you know his name? The man behind my Chat?"

Regret weighing her limbs, Tikki shook her head. "I'm so sorry, Marlene. I wish I could tell you, but I never knew either. I rarely do."

Marlene seemed to collapse back into her pillows, the animation in her face draining away. She released a deep sigh. "Ah, well. I shall have to wait until I reach the other side to find my answer, I suppose. If he too has passed, then my Gerard, God bless his soul, is probably his bosom beaux by now. I always thought they'd get on like a house on fire. At least my wait will be short."

Squeezing Marinette's fingers, she caught her gaze. "I've been watching you in the news these last few years. You do the spots proud, my dear." Marinette felt her chest fill with warmth.

Turning to Tikki, Marlene said, "I feel very lucky to see you one last time, my friend, but I'm ready to go now. Help me along?"

"What do you mean?" Marinette asked, heart dropping again. She had so much more she wanted to ask the former Ladybug. So much to learn. She clutched Marlene’s hand tightly.

"I've said all my goodbyes and my health is declining," Marlene said in a thready voice. "I'd like to have the good fortune to pass on peacefully to the other side instead of lingering in pain." Her eyes slipped closed. “Please.”

Sniffling, Tikki kissed Marlene gently on the brow. Several small tears dripped off Tikki’s face and caught in Marlene’s hair like diamonds on a silver chain. "Good luck to you in your next adventure, my dear one."

Marinette blinked wet eyes and suddenly the room became full of ladybugs. They flooded in through the window and created a breeze with the flutter of their wings. The room became a confusing kaleidoscope of red and black and white. Then the rushing sound of their wings quieted as the ladybugs settled on the bed, blanketing Marlene in a suit of cheerful cherry, almost like a Ladybug outfit. Marlene smiled beatifically and released a deep sigh that went on for several seconds. She didn't inhale.

Biting her lip, Marinette waited. The light and personality, the soul shining inside Marlene had slipped away. Only a peaceful body remained. The ladybugs began flying away, a few at a time, until finally they'd all exited the window, leaving the blue blanket pristine.

Tears trickling down her face and soaking into her collar, Marinette reverently tucked Marlene's already cooling hand back by her side. Tikki still lay in Marlene’s white hair, silently sobbing. Cupping her hand, Marinette gently gathered her friend up and brought her to her chest, hugging her close in shared sorrow.

Eventually their tears ran dry. Marinette knew they shouldn't be discovered by the staff here, so she tucked Tikki into her collar where she'd be hidden by the fall of her hair. Then she touched the hand of the former Ladybug one last time in tribute and farewell before going back to the window and sliding outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thank you so much to everyone commenting and following the story. Your words and support mean a lot to me. I only get time to write once or twice a week and my family and I have been sick pretty much constantly for over three months (3 bouts of stomach flu, 1 cold, 2 flus, one strained neck, flaring toddler eczema, and a flare up of carpel tunnel. I’ve had a cough and froggy voice for over a week now.). I intended to write this entire story and only start posting it as I edited the chapters, but I was running out of steam about 2/3rds of the way through, so I started posting to get some feedback to help fuel my creative fire, so to speak. Your interest and reactions mean the world to me. Thank you.


	6. We Can’t Taco’bout It

 

Marinette was lying on her bed flipping through her newest issue of _Elle_ magazine. Unfortunately, the fashion wasn’t enough to distract her from her problems. Her father’s disappointed words kept echoing in her head.

“ _Francois told me you’re still disappearing._ _If we still can’t trust you to not run off in the middle of work, especially with our current problems, how are we supposed to trust you with anything?”_

"Marinette? Can I talk to you?" Tikki interrupted.

Welcoming the distraction, Marinette closed her magazine and set it aside. "Sure. What about?"

Taking a seat on top of Marinette's large cat pillow, Tikki clasped her hands in her lap. "When we met Marlene, the former Ladybug, something strange happened.” That didn’t really narrow it down much for Marinette. At her blank look, Tikki prompted, “Do you remember experiencing a feeling of pressure when you introduced yourself?"

"Oh, yeah. Right up until I said my name. Then my ears popped and the pressure disappeared," Marinette answered. She had to stop and clear her throat as thoughts of the former Ladybug unexpectedly made tears prick her eyes. "I never expected to meet another Ladybug, you know, but Marlene seemed pretty… amazing.”

“She was,” Tikki agreed, her face softening with a far off look.

Marinette felt a pang of envy. “I liked her. Marlene lived a good life. She was so confident in herself and the good she'd done as both Ladybug and as herself. I wish I had that kind of confidence, especially without my spots on.” No matter how many times Tikki said it, Marinette still found it hard to believe in herself.

“Marlene never stopped being Ladybug, even without the spots. Spots don't make a Ladybug. Heart and soul do,” Tikki said earnestly. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do, Marinette. Then you’d see that you are amazing through and through.”

Uncomfortable, Marinette looked away, “Thanks.” She cleared her throat. “Why did you ask about our introduction? Did that strange pressure mean something?"

"I'm afraid so," Tikki’s voice turning grim. "To explain, I have to tell you what I’ve discovered. Somehow, some of my luck magic has been stolen."

Gasping, Marinette leaned forward. "Are you okay? Are we okay? Was it Hawk Moth?"

Waving down her budding hysteria, Tikki explained, "It wasn't Hawk Moth directly and the loss won't hurt either of us, but it is a problem we need to be aware of.”

Tikki stood up and began pacing back and forth along the cat pillow’s long, curved back. “Once I started thinking about it, I realized that your tendency to overschedule yourself and then give silly excuses hasn't changed much compared to last year. Yet suddenly, the people closest to you are seeing problems and becoming intolerant. You’re not as lucky because that luck’s been stolen. For instance, you're more likely to encounter obstacles and end up late, or have things happen that contradict your excuses and stories. It's increased the tension between you and your parents and between Ladybug and Chat Noir, especially in the last few months. I think the theft must have happened sometime last summer."

A spurt of anger shot through Marinette. The last few months had been miserable. And for what? To think that it could have been avoided made her want to smash something. "If it wasn't Hawk Moth, then who?"

Eyes narrowed, Tikki grumbled, "Plagg. It had to be him."

"Wait, who?" Marinette asked, drawing a blank.

"Plagg: the kwami of chaos and bad luck,” Tikki clarified. “Just like I’m the kwami of good luck, he champions the bad. As I create Ladybug, so he creates Chat Noir. However," Tikki scowled, "unlike me, Plagg is arrogant, lazy, mean-spirited, and unscrupulous."

Squinting in confusion, Marinette slowly said, "So Chat’s kwami is a bad guy?"

Rolling her neck, Tikki sighed heavily and plopped to a seat. The cat pillow bounced slightly beneath her small red body. "No, Plagg also serves the greater good. He just loves to tweak my whiskers. As kwami, we are slaves to our purpose. We power and create superheroes, but at the end of the day, you are the ones who choose how to use that power. Not us kwami. Usually the synergy creates marvels and is a lot of fun,” Tikki shot Marinette a fond grin, but it faded with her next words, “but when it goes wrong, like with the man who calls himself Hawk Moth, horrible things happen and the kwami is enslaved in torment.” Tikki frowned sadly.

“Plagg sometimes rebels against his role and acts out. This is one of those times. I'm pretty sure he did it for a good reason considering where the luck went, but he shouldn't have done it in the first place! Stealing is wrong! If he really needed our help, he should have had Chat Noir ask you first.”

Tikki folded her arms and frowned. “I bet Plagg could have figured out another way, it just would have taken a lot more effort. He'd much rather handicap someone else than suffer a moment of inconvenience, the scoundrel." Tikki descended into sub-audible grumbles.

"So what exactly did he do with your luck magic?" Marinette prodded with frustration, still in the dark about what was going on.

Popping up, Tikki placed her hands on her hips. "He cast a spell to keep people from figuring out Chat Noir's real identity. He added Ladybug to it too, but more as a bribe to convince my magic to go along with it than out of fairness or good intentions. In effect, whenever someone gets close to connecting Marinette to Ladybug, the spell makes their thoughts heavy and slow, distracting them and making them forget their suspicions."

"Well," Marinette considered, "that sounds like it could be useful."

Tikki scoffed, "Sure, but whenever someone pushes back against the suggestion of the spell, it steals more luck magic from us to fuel it. That means if Chat Noir accidentally transforms into his normal self in front of some bystander, then says, ‘Whoops, pretend you didn’t see that,’ it could render us almost powerless in the middle of a battle as the magic stole enough to try and rewrite the poor person's memory."

"Oh, that would be bad,” Marinette swallowed. “Alright then, can we get rid of it? Either on our own or by asking Chat to tell Plagg to remove it?"

"That's… complicated," Tikki began pacing again. "Plagg probably has no idea how to remove it. He doesn’t bother with magical theory. He acts through instinct and minimal effort. However, to give him some credit, if he went to the trouble of stealing my luck magic to cast this spell, it's probably because his Chat Noir is in imminent danger of having his Miraculous stolen. Taking the spell away could be cata-" Tikki stopped, cast her eyes to the ceiling, and sighed as she finished her sentence, “catastrophic.”

A bolt of amusement shot through Marinette, despite her sudden worry about her partner. After a few moments of thought, she made a decision. "I don't want to do anything that might hurt Chat Noir. At least now I know why things keep turning out bad. Keeping Chat safe is more important. Not only is he my friend, but Ladybug needs him to defeat Hawkmoth. It's been inconvenient, but… I can keep living with it if I have to."

_That didn’t mean it didn’t suck to be Ladybug right now, though._

"Then that brings us to the second thing," Tikki added evenly. "I have a theory on how the spell can be broken. Unlike Plagg, I do pay attention to magical theory. Because the spell is based on luck magic, forcing through it to speak your real identity charges it with bad luck. It happened when you met and introduced yourself to Marlene - that pop you felt - and actually weakened the spell. Luckily she was inherently lucky as a former Ladybug, so the effect was quite small. One big swell of bad luck, though, could potentially drain us and then shatter the spell. There’s also a chance that the stolen magic would take an indeterminable amount of time to return. There’s no way to know for sure since I didn’t cast it, but the possibilities are grim. So you see the real issue."

Throughout Tikki’s explanation, a sick feeling had unspooled in Marinette’s chest. Something felt like it was going to snap, but instead the words just kept going on and on, feeding her dread. "No, I don't see. What are you trying to say, Tikki? Just spit it out," Marinette snapped. She knew it was rude, but couldn’t stop herself.

Tikki pressed her lips together. "I’m not trying to hurt you with this. You’d know already if you didn’t insist on burying your head in the sand, but fine, I’ll ‘ _spit it out’_ for you. We’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. There’s a chance that the next person to guess either your or Chat Noir’s real identity will cause the spell to suck us dry and make it impossible to turn into Ladybug for days or even longer.”

Marinette felt her face pale. Her breathing went shallow and labored, as if struck in the belly with a fist. _How was she supposed to protect her Miraculous without her superpowers?_

Tikki nodded grimly, as if reading her thoughts. “Best case scenario: if you accidentally reveal your identity to someone random, the spell will protect you and stay active, though we’ll be weakened and potentially low on luck magic for a while.”

Before Marinette could relax, she added, “However, worst case scenario: if Hawk Moth sees either of you transform, the spell will shatter. If you purposely tell Chat Noir that Ladybug is really Marinette, the spell will shatter. If you show him Ladybug transforming into Marinette, the spell with shatter. If Chat Noir tries to show either to you, it will shatter. The shattering of the spell could suck our magic dry. Then Hawkmoth will _win,_ because without Ladybug, there’s no purifying akuma, keeping people de-evilized, or healing damage done by his minions.”

"But… but," Marinette bit her lip to stop it from trembling, “but I wanted to tell Chat my real name,” she said in a small voice.

Tikki’s antennae flicked. “Even if we manage to squeak by with the best case scenario and don’t lose the Ladybug transformation when the spell brakes, Chat will once more have no protection from the threat looming so close to his Miraculous. If there still is, in fact, a credible threat. However, we probably need to act under the assumption that the threat exists." 

A tear escaped to roll down Marinette’s cheek. Tikki gave her a compassionate look, stepping forward to squeeze her finger. "I'm sorry, Marinette. Being Ladybug isn’t easy. All the same, the choice to tell Chat Noir your real name is still yours. We don’t have to keep the spell. I could be wrong. Maybe I’m overstating the dangers. I didn’t cast the spell myself, so I’m just guessing here. I can only advise you. As always, you have the free agency to make any choice you want. You just need to know that there will be consequences to your choices, good and bad. If possible, choose the better choice rather than the easier choice."

Sniffling, Marinette rubbed hard at her eyes. Thoughts spinning, she asked, "So if I'd told him last year, the spell wouldn't care now?"

"No," Tikki agreed softly.

"But I wasn't ready last year and now….” Trailing off, Marinette grappled with her choices. In the end, however, there was only one right choice for Ladybug. “Chat is my partner and Hawkmoth’s attacks on Parisians are worse than ever. I have to protect Chat and my ability to become Ladybug."

Marinette covered her face with her hands. "I can't tell him my real name. I can’t,” she gasped into the humid space created by her palms. “And even though it's technically his fault, he's going to be hurt by it and hate me because of it. It's not fair."

"No, it isn't, my dear," Tikki stated solemnly. “It isn’t fair at all.”

At her sympathetic agreement, Marinette collapsed forward onto the bed and began crying into the belly of her cat pillow. Why did doing the right thing have to hurt so much? _Sometimes, she hated the responsibility of being Ladybug._

Through her tears, Marinette felt Tikki gently stroking a hand over her hair. Tikki always did that when Marinette felt down. The soothing stroke reminded her that she wasn't alone. At least through the hard times, she always had Tikki by her side. _What would she do without Tikki?_

Remembering Marlene, Marinette realized that she must have lost both Tikki and her friend Chat Noir on the same day she lost the ability to become Ladybug. _What would it feel like to know she’d never put on the spots again?_ _To really not be Ladybug anymore?_

Sure, parts of it would be such a relief, but it would be hard to not have that power anymore, to lose the ability to save people heroically. Even worse would be the loss of the people she loved. Marinette began to sob. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I love being Ladybug and I love you. I don’t want to lose anything."

"Calm down,” Tikki soothed. “Everything will work out eventually, both with Ladybug and with Chat Noir. You'll see."

"You promise?" Marinette begged wetly. "Because I was just thinking of Marlene losing Ladybug on top of my problems and it all makes me feel _so sad_." A distraught hiccup escaped her.

"Oh, Marinette, the last thing Marlene would want would be to make someone sad. That girl was a firecracker of joy. She lived a full life both before and after being Ladybug and has gone on to her next great adventure," Tikki gently hugged her. "You have a light in your soul that shines good out into the world, Marinette. It will keep you warm and guide your path now and long after the Ladybug spots are gone. You just have to get through this rough patch without giving in to despair.  You can do it. I believe in you."

Wiping her face, Marinette took a few minutes to bring her breathing under control and push back her tears. Then she gave her friend a soggy but earnest smile. "Thanks, Tikki. In case I don't say it enough, you're wonderful."

Closing her eyes, Marinette buried her face determinedly into her cat pillow. “And now I don’t want to think anymore, so I’m going to go to sleep. Make me lucky enough not to dream?”

“Maybe a good one instead,” Tikki said lowly as she ran her hand lovingly over Marinette’s hair.

* * *

 

Chat Noir couldn’t wait for the fight to be over. He snuck another look at his partner, but bit back the words on his tongue. She’d made it clear that she didn’t want coddling right now. It frustrated him. Ladybug had lightly bleeding slashes on both of her cheeks. At least he knew that they’d be completely gone as soon as the battle ended. Otherwise, seeing her blood every week would drive him to excessive violence. Even knowing she’d heal, Chat still struggled. He tried to keep in mind that the evilized were victims in this too, but once they caught up to Hawk Moth, the kid gloves were definitely coming off.

Currently the evilized supervillain was hopping backwards in retreat. Chat had just tied the supervillain’s legs together with some leopard print duct tape he’d found. Luckily the villain’s sharp toe-claws couldn’t reach the tape binding his legs. Unfortunately, those toes had managed to slash at Chat, causing him to flinch and giving the man room to escape before Chat could break his akuma out.

"After the fight, let’s meet at the rooftop garden with the ugly cherubs," Ladybug called. “We need to talk.”

"Right!" Chat answered, so excited that he ran into a lamppost. "Ow," he moaned, rubbing his head. He carefully stepped around the lamppost to see if Ladybug needed him for anything.

She didn't.

Ladybug threw her Lucky Charm to distract him. Then she slung out her yoyo string and tripped him mid-hop. While he flopped onto his belly, she coolly strode forward and broke the charm tied around his wrist. A black akuma flew out. Ladybug snapped it up into her yoyo compact.

Seconds later, a purified white akuma fluttered out of her yoyo and up into the sky. After using her magic to fix everything, Ladybug gave Chat their traditional post-fight fist-bump.  However, for some reason she wouldn't meet his eyes.

It made Chat suspicious. "Ladybug? Is something wrong?"

 _Weren’t they supposed to meet and_ finally _talk about their real identities? Or was she backing out?_

For years, he'd dreamed about the face behind that spotted mask. He’d strategized about how to put her at ease during their introductions. Despite Plagg's mocking, Adrien had even practiced in front of the mirror until he found the perfect way to smoothly introduce himself as high school senior and sometimes-model Adrien Agreste.

After the name reveal, he’d steer them towards his favorite bakery. The smell would put anyone in a good mood. Then Adrien would buy them a bag full of macarons to share. At first he’d considered sharing a spinach and salmon pie because they tasted delicious, but the chance of unknowingly getting green spinach stuck in his teeth while trying to smile charmingly was just too high. In his daydreams, the familiar but strange girl underneath the Ladybug mask would eat her macaron with an expression of sublime pleasure, and then steal the last one when he let himself be distracted by her finger pointing in the opposite direction. They'd laugh and talk for hours. There would be no masks and no more holding back. It would be amazing. 

Of course, that would only happen if Ladybug still agreed to go along with it. "You didn't change your mind about talking, did you?" he asked with a lump in his throat.

Ladybug opened her mouth, only to be interrupted by the strident beep of her Miraculous earring. Chat hated those beeps. They always ruined the moment and made things more difficult than they had to be.

"We’ll talk at the garden," Ladybug said abruptly. She turned to go and then paused, looking over her shoulder to quickly add, "With spots on and claws out, okay?" Looking apologetic, she swung away around the corner.

Blowing a stand of hair out of his eye, Chat swallowed down the urge to do something ill-advised like throw something. Or maybe race after her and grab her arm until she couldn’t’ help but transformed. But Chat knew better. No matter what he wanted, he would never force his presence or will on a woman. If Ladybug needed him to wait, he'd wait. 

To distract himself, Chat walked over to make sure the de-evilized man was alright. No longer looking violent, he had red hair combed over a balding patch, some middle-aged spread beneath his belt, and morose gray eyes. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen," he said earnestly as a paramedic came up and wrapped him in a shock blanket.

After a moment, he looked up at Chat and blinked with bewilderment. "You're just a kid. I didn't realize you were so young. I have a son your age.” The man’s face tightened with anger and despair. “ _He_ doesn't care, but I'm sorry. Thank you for stopping me. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it's not your fault. It’s fine," Chat said gently. Crouching down, he spent the next few minutes soothing the man and making sure he'd be okay. The only true villain in all this was Hawk Moth. Talking to victims helped Chat remember that.

Too soon, though, his nervous jitters got the better of him and he couldn’t wait anymore. Giving the gathered crowd a salute, he took out his baton and bounced away. If Ladybug needed more time to recharge, he'd just wait for her at the garden.

The rooftop garden was closed for the winter, so the two of them should have privacy for their talk. Hopefully it would be a good talk. Chat felt nervous. Even if the stone cherubs were ugly, at least the setting sun would make for a romantic backdrop.

 _Was it wrong to want a romantic backdrop?_ Ladybug rarely seemed to appreciate his romantic gestures. Most of the time, she seemed dismissive. However, occasionally he'd coax out a smile.

When they'd fought Pencil Pusher, he could have sworn she was about to kiss him. Then her blood started dripping on his cheek and ruined the moment. Chat was mostly sure that the romantic moment was because Ladybug liked him and not because of her bleeding head wound.

Mostly sure.

But she'd been the one to offer to exchange identities this time! That had to mean something. Didn't it? He’d happily accept a deeper friendship if that’s all that came of this, but he’d also green any sign of romance with open arms.

Dropping down into the rooftop garden, Chat stowed his baton and sat down on a delicately curved wrought-iron bench. Luckily his suit insulated him from the cold metal. He looked around. He’d already seen enough of the ugly cherub statues, thank you. Otherwise, the dormant garden was boring.

Popping back to his feet, Chat began pacing up and down the icy pathways. Because the garden was limited to the rooftop, there wasn't a lot of area to pace. Finally on his fourth rotation, he saw a flash of red from the corner of his eye.

Pivoting in place, Chat saw Ladybug securing her yoyo to her belt before looking up to meet his eyes. She gave him a sideways, nervous look and came over to stand next to him on the path. They stood awkwardly.

Ladybug finally broke the silence. "Hi."

"He-e-y… Ladybug," Chat replied, rocking back and forth on his heels.

Desperately casting his eyes around for inspiration to break the awkwardness, he noticed the sunset. "The sky’s beautiful, isn’t it?" he gestured nervously.

Ladybug looked in the direction he pointed. Her face transformed with a smile. The sun shone off her teeth for just a second before the sun went behind a cloud. "Yeah, it is. That shaft of sunlight coming out the cloud even looks like a golden sword. See?" She leaned warmly against his shoulder and pointed. "It's being parried by the blade of the Eiffel Tower. I wonder who'll win their fencing match." She sent him a sideways, impish smile. "Do you fence too?"

Chat swallowed hard. "Um, do I fence?" he repeated dumbly, pinching his thigh hard to test if this was a dream. The pinch hurt, so he thought he was awake. Ladybug probably didn't mean fencing with words… or with tongues. In fact, she'd probably slap him if he mentioned tongues.

"Yes," he choked out, "I fence. You?"

Although she looked a little quizzical at his flustered state, she answered easily. "No, I never learned. I've thought about picking it up since a friend of mine fences, but I've never had the time or the talent either, to be honest."

"Now that I find hard to believe," Chat said insistently. "I bet you'd be a great fencer. You’re so graceful."

Giving a self-deprecating laugh, Ladybug shook her head. "Then you'd bet wrong. When I'm not wearing the spots, I'm a total klutz." She stepped forward, turned around, and leaned back against the railing. Chat yanked his mind away from the wisp of his naughty dream to focus on the present. In doing so, he finally noticed a yellow ringed bruise on her cheek.

Chat's stomach dropped and he felt sick. "Oh, no. There's still a yellow bruise on your cheek. The Miraculous Ladybug magic didn't completely fix your wounds." Trying to push down his panic, Chat stepped forward and lightly touched her jaw, tilting her head back to get a better look.  

They were getting hurt more often in battle now. What would they do if the healing magic stopped working? He’d barely gotten to the point of not panicking each time he smelled her blood. Would the broken bones and gouges start following them into their daily lives? Did he need to fear even more for his partner's safety? Chat didn’t think he could put more into protecting her than he already did.

"No, don’t worry. It's fine," Ladybug soothed, giving him a soft look before gently leaning away from his touch on her face. "The bruise isn't from the battle. I’m just a klutz, remember? I stood up too fast beneath the corner of a cabinet and banged my cheek. Unfortunately, the magic doesn't fix injuries gained outside of battle."

Shrugging, she added cheerfully, "Though the bruise was dark blue and purple this morning, so at least the magic helped a little! I had to cake makeup on my cheek to hide my shame during school. My transformation must have removed it."

"You're sure it was a cabinet? It looks like someone hit you," Chat asked protectively.

Ladybug blinked at him in surprise, "What? No, it really was just a cabinet. I promise," she waved aside his concern. “Thanks for worrying, though.” Then she gave an amused little huff. "I don't know how I've concealed it from you for so many years, but outside of Ladybug, I'm famous for flailing around and being clumsy. I've been working on being more graceful, but it's a work in progress. Seriously, I'm fine. It barely even hurts. "

Looking away, Chat blew out a breath and forced his shoulders to unclench. "You’re welcome.” Screwing up his courage, he turned back to say, "Speaking of hidden things, I think I'm ready to finally introduce myself, my real name I mean. I’ve wanted to tell you for a very long time."

Their eyes met and clung. The air became thick, pressing against his skin and muffling sound. Adrien watched carefully as Ladybug's eyes became dark and wide with some unnamed emotion. Her lips parted, revealing the tip of her tongue as it pressed against her lower lip.

Then she looked away and sadly asked, "Do you feel that pressure?"

Blinking in confusion, Chat answered, "Nervousness? It's pretty natural considering we've kept this a secret for three years." 

Ladybug laughed mirthlessly. "Does this pressure feel like normal nerves to you?" She looked up at him chidingly.

"Well…" Chat floundered before trailing off. Now that he focused on it, the pressure did feel kind of strange. Not new, because he'd felt it before, but if he didn't know better, he'd say the pressure thickened the air surrounding his body just as much as it burdened his head and heart. "If it's not nerves, then what is it?"

Ladybug pressed her lips together. "So Plagg didn't explain it to you?"

"Explain what?" Chat felt his irritation rising to rival his confusion. "Can we please stop talking in circles and be direct?" This is not how he’d imagined this conversation going.

Abruptly Ladybug burst into movement, pushing off the railing to pace ten paces in the opposite direction before spinning around and marching back. "At some point during the last year, probably in summer, your kwami stole some of my luck magic," she accused pointedly. "Is that direct enough for you?"

Chat's swirl of emotions collapsed into a solid slug of guilt. "Oh, that."

"Yes, that," she bit out.

"I just learned about it myself," he defended weakly. "I didn't know until then, but Plagg said he needed it for a spell and that it would just protect me, protect us both and our identities from being discovered. He said it wouldn’t hurt anything. I'm sorry."

Taking a deep breath, he braced himself and asked, "Did he lie to me?"

Lifting a hand, Ladybug rubbed her face, wincing when he accidentally pressed on her fading bruise. "I know he's trying to look out for you. I can respect that, since I’d do just about anything to keep you safe." She shot him an indecipherable look before continuing, "Let's say, he misdirected and minimized the fall-out of his theft.”

"Ladybug," he folded his arms and frowned commandingly, trying to keep himself from getting distracted by her declaration.

"Chat Noir," she answered gravely and mirrored his pose.

"It seems like both of you have trouble speaking clearly," Chat said pointedly. “Please, explain it to me so I can fix it.” Sighing, Ladybug gave him a sad smile. It made him worry that he wasn't going to like what she had to say next.

"The loss of my luck magic has been inconvenient, but now that I know, I’m dealing with it," Ladybug said. "However, there's still the chance that the spell might pull on more of my luck magic to power it if challenged. As long as it doesn't happen in the middle of a battle, it's probably not a big deal. Probably."

"If there's a risk then let's just get rid of it," Chat said with exasperation borne mostly of his own anxiety and guilt.

"Your kwami wouldn't have done it if you didn't need the extra protection," Ladybug denied. "Until we defeat Hawk Moth, we can't risk you being discovered or your Miraculous being stolen. Your safety is worth the risk to me, Chat. You're more important."

This time, he couldn’t keep his cheeks from going hot with pleasure. "Thanks," he mumbled.

When he tried to catch her eye, Ladybug straightened her back and focused over his shoulder. "Unfortunately, the spell isn't very specific. The pressure we felt was the spell trying to keep our identities secret by keeping us from speaking. My kwami, Tikki, thinks that the spell will be broken if we force past the magical pressure to reveal our names. However, breaking the spell will leave you vulnerable to attack. There’s also a chance it might steal more of my luck magic as it breaks and leave me unable to transform for a while.”

“A big chance or a little chance?” Chat asked, mind spinning as he tried to make sense of her words. “Plagg never mentioned anything like that. How sure are you about the details? You said ‘might’ and ‘probably’ a lot in your explanation.”

“Well,” Ladybug seemed to flounder, “Tikki doesn’t know exactly because she didn’t see the spell, but she’s better at magical theory than Plagg is and thinks that stuff could happen.”

“A lot of things could happen and don’t,” Chat said stubbornly. “Obviously I don’t want to do anything that would hurt you or make it so you couldn’t become Ladybug, but I also don’t think we should let fear rule our decision making. If the spell is inconveniencing you, it might be better in the long run to break it now in a controlled setting than to let it go on and have it accidentally break or get strained at the worst possible moment.” 

Pressing her lips together stubbornly, Ladybug shook her head. “We talked it over and decided that we'd all be better served by leaving the spell in place."

Chat instinctively began stalking forward. " _You_ decided- well, what about me and Plagg? We’re obviously a part of this. We have a say too, especially since Plagg was the one who cast the thing. Let’s just de-transform and the four of us can sit down and talk this out.”

“Aren’t you hearing me?” Ladybug cried, refusing to be intimidated as she poked him in the chest to make her point. “Transforming in front of each other will break the spell too!”

“Wait, are you saying I can't show you the real me or even tell you my real name without breaking the spell?" Chat asked incredulously.

"Yes!" Ladybug flung her hands into the air.

"Well that's- that's garbage! C’est n’importe quoi! C’est naze!" he said wildly. "I don't care about the spell. I didn't even know about it until this week. If it’s taking your magic every time it gets challenged, you’re just going to get weaker as time goes on. That’s stupid and not strategic at all.” He forced himself to suck in a breath. “We can fix this. Even if your transformation breaks for a few days, I can protect you and your Miraculous until it comes back. You have to know I’d die before I’d let Hawk Moth or anyone else hurt you. You can trust me. Let's just break it!"

"You can’t protect me every hour of the day. If I get stuck unable to transform, we don’t even know how long it would last. Are you going to transfer to my school? Sleep on my bedroom floor? I think both our parents would have something to say about that,” she snapped scornfully.

Then Ladybug waved her hand. “Even if we managed to make it work, you’d still be in danger. Someone at your school or home would take your Miraculous if they recognized it. Isn’t that why Plagg cast the spell in the first place? You need that spell to stay safe.”

"I don't need magical protection," Chat scoffed. “I can protect my Miraculous by myself.”

"Obviously you do need it," Ladybug gritted out. “Something must have happened or Plagg wouldn’t have stolen my magic in the first place.”

Frustrated almost beyond words, Chat clenched his fists and leaned forward to try and make her see reason. "There is no big threat! Plagg is just lazy and this way he doesn’t have to be as careful about being seen eating my cheese!”

Breathing in and out deeply, he forced himself to calm down. They were practically nose to nose as they shouted. He hadn’t realized they’d stepped so close or gotten so loud. If they kept up like this, someone would come and investigate.

Taking another breath, he forced himself to speak normally. “I want to know the woman you really are. Don’t you want to finally know me? To be partners both in and out of the masks? You said you did. You said you _needed_ it, needed to know the real me. I need that too.”

Opening his hands, he held them out to her in supplication. “Please, Ladybug. I’m willing to take the risk if it means we can finally be completely honest with each other, that we can finally be together.”

The moment stretched as Ladybug teetered on the edge of her decision. Chat could see her internal struggle. Blue eyes rose from examining his outstretched fingers to carefully scrutinize his face. Meeting that gaze, he held back nothing. For a second, Chat swore he saw his love returned in Ladybug’s eyes.

Then she made her choice and took a step back. Chat’s hopes spattered onto the ground. “I’m not,” Ladybug said with a break in her voice. “I can’t. The risk is too high.”

“That’s fear talking,” Chat begged. “You’re lucky, _we’re_ lucky enough to take on any risk and win as long as we’re fighting it together. Please, take a chance on us. Trust me.”

Instead, Ladybug shook her head and folded her arms. “It’s not fear; it’s strategy. I need you to be safe. I have to fight as Ladybug with Chat Noir by my side. Standing together without spots or claws is merely a want, a desire. It’s selfish. There’s no time for selfishness until Hawk Moth is defeated. I’ve weighed the consequences. I’m so sorry if this hurts you, but I’m not going to change my mind.” She clenched her jaw stubbornly.

Turning his back on her, Chat gritted his teeth and stared unblinking into the setting sun until tears of pain streamed down his cheeks. When he blinked, orange spots burned behind his eyelids. Then the sun sank behind the skyline.

Everything he wanted was so close, but it hovered just out of reach and caused pain when he tried to touch it. He _hated_ feeling powerless, especially right now. Adrien was supposed to be the powerless one, not Chat Noir.

Sucking in a breath through gritted teeth, he reminded himself that he was used to this kind of anger and pain. He would survive it. Being powerless right now didn’t mean he wouldn’t one day find another way. He could be as inexorable and malleable as a river moving across the land to reach the sea. One day, Ladybug would come to him without any masks between them and welcome Adrien with open arms. One day she’d want him, she’d believe in him.

“Chat Noir?” she asked quietly.

_But not today._

Wiping his face dry, Chat took a deep breath and held it until his chest burned. Then he slowly and carefully released it through his nose. Breathing in and out quietly, he centered himself and focused on the movement of the muscles in his body, just like he’d been taught to do before a fencing match.

“Please say something,” Ladybug begged softly, her consonants turning ragged. “Are you mad at me?”

“Yes,” he said brusquely. She made a soft, wounded sound that he couldn’t help but respond to. Chat turned around. Although he knew he now had perfect control over his expression, it still felt comforting to have his face in shadow. He’d prefer that she not notice the extent of his devastation. “I won’t trick you or force you, that’s not my way, but I don’t know what else to do to earn your trust.”

To be fair, Plagg had stolen her magic first, but Chat didn’t have the ability to be fair right now. He felt bad for her distress, but worse for himself. Gesturing, he added softly, “I can only ask you to not get my hopes up again. Don’t say things you don’t mean. It’s cruel.”

Tears overflowed Ladybug’s blue eyes and darkened the edges of her mask. “I’m sorry. I won’t.”

“I’m sorry too,” he shrugged and looked down at her. “One day, we’ll see eye to eye without any masks between us. Then we’ll go to that bakery and say all the things we’ve kept silent about over the years.”

“When it’s safe, I hope for that too, Chat Noir,” she said earnestly. Blinking away the wetness in her eyes, she cleared her throat. “But what bakery are you talking about?”

Chat hesitated, but then decided that he had nothing to lose at this point. "I had a plan. Talking always goes sweeter with a snack and I’ve been reliably informed that macarons are the ideal food for introductions. You know, give a cookie for a sweet first impression?”

“I didn’t realize anyone followed that rule but me. It’s a good strategy.” Ladybug offered tentatively.  

Chat couldn’t help the way his heart softened. He always had a hard time staying mad at her. It made him say more than he’d intended. “I had it all worked out. I was going to take you to the best bakery in town. We’ve fought there a few times over the years: the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie? Do you remember it? I’d hoped that their perfect macarons would make for a perfect and sweet first meeting of our real selves." A strange ripple of pressure came and went. Chat forced himself to shrug nonchalantly, despite really wanting to curl down into a ball on the ground and cry. “I guess it’ll never happen now.”

Ladybug’s face contorted into a complicated mix of beaming smile and devastated eyes. He didn’t know how to read it. _Did it really matter, though?_ “I should go,” he said, stepping back and starting to turn away.

“Wait,” she blurted out. Pressing her lips together, Ladybug swallowed hard, smoothing out her expression. Then she stepped forward. “I absolutely love macarons, especially the ones from that bakery.” Ladybug took a quick breath at whatever his face showed. “In fact, a bakery meeting with macarons sounds _purr_ -fectly _egg_ -straordinary.” Biting her lip, she looked up at him hopefully through her eyelashes.

Despite himself, Chat couldn’t help his small smile. He had a severe weakness for puns and she knew it. “Like bread, I always try to rise to the occasion. It’s the yeast I can do.”

Lips twitching, she stepped closer. “If I ever knead more food puns, I’ll keep that in mind, though your material is a little stale and a scone’s throw away from becoming toast.”

Mouth dropping open, Chat clasped his hands to his chest in delight as her words made his mood soar. Instead of fighting the feeling, he embraced it. “I think I just fell for you all over again. Where have these puns been hiding? Call me a doughnut, but I loved the hole thing. Are there a baker’s dozen more where that came from? Because you don’t have mushroom for improvement. I can tell you’ve had those baking in your oven for a while. After all, great puns aren’t born, they’re bread.”

Giggling, she held out her hands. “Stop! I cry foul, especially on that mushroom pun.”

Chat sent her a wounded look. “Now don’t go bacon my heart. Sticks and scones may break my bones, but nothing tastes better than fowl and mushrooms. Chefs from every wok of life agree on that, no matter how cheesy you find it.”

“You know what? I don’t carrot all. I don’t have mushroom for eggs-ecrable puns,” Ladybug tipped her head to the side and winked.

Then she bit her lip and concentrated. “Peas don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not sure how long it will be before we can taco’bout it. When we defeat Hawk Moth, lettuce meat up at the bakery. We’ll have thyme then to kill two birds with one scone. You know, sate our bellies and curiosity at the same time?” The intense blue of her eyes matched the darkening sky at her back. “I promise.”

Mood once again falling, Chat nodded his head. “I’ll hold you to that.” An icy winter wind blew against his face, stealing his breath. Taking out his baton, Chat gave Ladybug a salute and bounced away.

* * *

 

When Adrien arrived home, he planned to avoid everyone and go straight to his room. Despite Ladybug's gift of puns, he still felt frustrated, angry, and hurt. He blamed Ladybug for not trusting in him enough and he blamed Plagg for stealing her magic without asking. He couldn’t hate either of them for it, though.

In fact, he could understand where both of them were coming from. They were trying to protect him. They thought he was weak.

Maybe they were right.

Adrien’s chest hurt. He wanted to retreat to his room, put on his headphones, and forget about the world for a while. His bodyguard poked his head into the foyer and looked him up and down for damage. Adrien paused for the inspection, though resentment burned in his belly. Finally the man nodded and retreated back down the hallway with a relieved and beleaguered sigh.

Released, Adrien began trudging up the staircase to his room. Mentally exhausted, he kept his head down. That meant he was caught completely by surprise when he saw his father waiting disapprovingly at the top with his hands folded behind his back. "Adrien, we need to talk."

"Now isn't really a good time," Adrien muttered, too caught up in his own problems.

Gabriel Agreste did not tolerate dissent, even, or perhaps especially, in his son. His lips thinned. "I also would have preferred to meet two hours ago when you were supposed to be home, but since you chose to run away from your bodyguard in another fit of adolescent immaturity, you will have to make time now." Raising one pale eyebrow, he added, "I thought you were going to start acting like the adult you aspire to be and stop childishly running away from your bodyguard?"

 _I don't remember agreeing to that_ , Adrien thought with sullen resentment. Luckily he kept the words locked behind his teeth. Even with his bad mood, he knew better.

"Well?" his father prompted impatiently.

"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir," Adrien recited with dispassion.

Sighing heavily, his father turned on his heel. "Well, come on then. I'd like to take care of this so I can move on with the rest of my work." Gabriel walked into his office without looking back to see if Adrien followed.

_What would he do if Adrien ignored him, went into his bedroom, and locked the door?_

It was a nice fantasy, but Adrien wouldn't do it. He was too firmly under his father's thumb, he acknowledged with wry self-disgust, desperate for scraps of affection and wary of retribution. Instead, like a dog, Adrien meekly followed his father into the office and stopped in front of the desk to quietly wait.

His father sat down behind the desk and tented his fingers beneath his chin. He coolly examined Adrien from behind his spectacles. Finally he spoke. "On a side note, I’ve been told that you performed exceptionally well on your last photoshoot. Upper management was impressed. I’m pleased that you are taking your legacy in this company seriously.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Adrien said with a warm flush.

Then his father ruined it by continuing to speak. “I had begun to wonder if you had become content with mediocrity. It’s good that you’ve chosen to work harder.”

Adrien pressed his lips together and stayed silent.

Leaning back, Gabriel laid his hands on the arms of his chair. He tapped the armrest several times, a sign of discomfort, before speaking. “Serious accusations have been made against one of our employees. Normally I leave such matters to Human Resources, but the man in question is a very effective employee who's been with the company for years. Several administrators are loath to lose him. I’ve personally noticed no problems when we've worked together." Flicking his fingers as if to discard the opinions of others as inferior, he turned his eyes towards his monitor. "I've been asked my thoughts on censure versus termination. In light of the fact that you've worked with Walter Petit quite regularly, including on our most recent jewelry campaign, it's been suggested that you may have an opinion on the matter, one less tainted by the sensitivity and self-importance most models are prone to. I agreed to ask you before submitting my response to retain a valued employee. Of course, if I'd known you'd be back so late, I would have refused the inconvenience and submitted my reply hours ago," he sniffed.

The hands folded behind Adrien's back clenched into fists. The expression on his face felt almost aggressively bland. He'd never felt such a strong urge to punch his father in the face. Considering he normally jumped off rooftops, the desk between them wouldn't slow him down much.

Not seeing beyond Adrien's blank-faced obedience, Gabriel tapped at his touchscreen for a few seconds. He could see his father's email program reflected off the front of his glasses. "There, let’s finish this up," his father said as he turned back to face Adrien. "Walter Petit is a senior fitter and tailor. Not under dispute is that during your recent photoshoot for our new jewelry line, he was disrespectful to Director Bonaparte and rough with some of the clothing. However, during the course of the disciplinary write-up, someone added accusations of inappropriate touching of the models. As there is some doubt to its veracity, I'm asking you to clear up the misunderstanding so I can send it back to HR and stop being bothered by their emails."

Obviously his father had already made up his mind that Walter was innocent.

Positioning his fingers over the keyboard, Gabriel brusquely asked, "In your professional opinion, has Walter Petite ever used his job as a fitter to inappropriately touch or harass a model?"

Containing himself to a curl of the lip, Adrien answered succinctly. "Yes."

Immediately his father's eyes snapped up to his face. "What? I don't think I heard you."

 "You didn't last time either," he said softly, doing his best to keep the simmering anger and resentment from exploding.

Placing his hands flat on the desk, his father leaned forward. "Explain yourself," he demanded with a snap. Alarm coalesced in his pale eyes.

_It seemed a little late for that._

After all, it had been going on for years. _Did he want_ all _of the dirty details?_ It made Adrien nauseous to think about it. His fingernails dug painfully into his palms. Something wet trickled down his wrist. The blood would stain his shirt cuffs. He needed to relax his hands. Hurting himself for their sake was stupid. It was just that trying to speak of Walter felt like pulling on thorny weeds.

"Adrien?" his father prompted anxiously.

"I came to you years ago and told you that Walter made me and the other models uncomfortable during fittings. You cut me off and told me to be less sensitive and more professional," Adrien said gruffly, cutting his eyes up to stare at the wall behind his father's desk.

"Since that time, Walter's only become more inappropriate. I told him I was going to complain, that I’d stop him. He took your lack of action as carte blanche to do as he pleased. It makes him feel powerful to remind us that models are just objects to be pushed around and used. As heir to the Gabriel brand, I try to shield the female and younger models as much as I can by forcing him to dress me instead, since he's even worse with them. In response, he retakes my full set of measurements almost every time I work with him, even if the clothing is already sewn and he's only supposed to check the final fit. He makes sure to press his body against a model and linger along the inseam and chest measurements. If he can, he leaves little bruises where they won't be seen beneath the clothes. While we're busy being professional and holding still, he keeps up a constant monologue reminding us of the heavy consequences if we act out or try to say anything. Of course, he's so efficient, as you say, that he makes up any lost time in the sewing room and times his worst acts for when no one is looking or he's paired with coworkers who don't care. I'm used to dealing with it by now." He tried to stop there, but his temper had control of his tongue. "I'd show you the finger-shaped bruises he left on my ass as proof, but they just finally disappeared, so you'll have to take my word for it. That or give me another lecture on submitting to the professional necessities of the job."

A white-faced Gabriel shot to his feet. The chair behind his desk smacked into the wall, denting the plaster before falling over onto the floor with a clatter. "I'll kill him for touching _my_ son," Gabriel snarled. His eyes looked almost crazed with shock and rage.

Adrien bared his teeth and shrugged. He expected to feel… well, better about his father's angry reaction. Instead, he still felt bitter. Maybe because when his father said, 'my son,' the emphasis was more on the _'my'_ than on the 'son.' "If you think that's the professional thing to do," Adrien said snidely.

Ignoring his tone, his father asked, "Did he ever do anything more than touch you inappropriately during fittings?" The light reflected off his eyes strangely, like moonlight reflecting off pale, fluttering wings.

"Nope," Adrien replied, insolently popping the 'p' on the word. He shouldn't risk talking to his father this way, but right now he couldn't stop himself. His father seemed more concerned about punishing Walter than about making sure Adrien was fine anyways. Adrien's rubbed his finger along the band of his Miraculous ring. "I can't vouch for the other models, though."  Adrien thought of the models he knew, like Miki, and felt a surge of sadness. His tough, rebellious exterior fractured. Heat gathered behind his eyes and stung his nose. "I really hope not." Adrien sniffed once quietly and forced himself to calm down.

In the midst of dialing his tablet angrily, his father paused. Blowing out his breath, he looked up and carefully examined his son's face. For a moment, those eyes became warm. They looked at Adrien with love. "Are you alright, son?"

 _No_ , but for a variety of horrible reasons of which Walter was just one. However, he couldn't tell his father that. "I will be if you get rid of him and blacklist him from ever working in Paris again," Adrien finally replied.

 _If he asked for a hug, would his father give him one?_ Gathering his courage, Adrien opened his lips to speak. Before he could, his father's expression became distant. He turned back to his tablet and the moment was lost.

"Oh, I'll do better than that," his father muttered to himself. "I'll ruin him. He's going to wish for death. I'll ban him from every fashion house and mass-market department store in the world. When I'm done, the only job he'll be able to get is mending uniforms for sanitation workers in Thailand."

Not bothering to look up again, Gabriel flicked his fingers at the door. "You're dismissed. Let Nathalie know if you need anything. Or maybe-" hesitating, he dragged his attention back to Adrien and awkwardly fumbled his glasses back into place, "you could ask her to have the chef send up some ice cream with your dinner? I'll be busy with work for the rest of the night." Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Gabriel turned back to his tablet and immediately refocused.

Sadness and hurt see-sawed in Adrien's chest. "I'm eighteen, not eight. Ice cream hasn't fixed things for a long time." At least not since his mother disappeared. “Especially not when eaten alone,” Adrien added beseechingly. Either his father didn't hear his words or he chose not to respond.

 _But at least he had tried_ , Adrien's conscious reminded him in his mother’s voice. _Your father does love you in his own, awkward way._ Maybe not the way Adrien needed, but no one was perfect.

Today was a lesson from the Universe that Adrien should stop wishing for what he needed and just be grateful for whatever he could get. It could be worse. It could always get worse. "Goodnight, Sir, and thank you."

Quietly shutting the door to the office, Adrien walked down the hall at a measured pace. He entered his room. After locking the door, he turned on the light. Then he sat down in a chair and stared blankly at the wall, trying to figure out what to do next.

When things like this happened on TV, the hero usually started throwing things. That or picked a fight with someone. However, Adrien didn't have any anger left, just an ocean of sadness.

"Why didn't you ever tell me it was that bad at work?" Plagg asked quietly. "I would have done something bad to him years ago. I still might."

"I know, buddy, but you shouldn't have to." Adrien dropped his head into his hands and pressed hard against his eyes. Unspoken was the name of who should have.

At least Walter would be gone now. It would make all of the models happy to not have to deal with him anymore. Adrien might even start looking forward to modeling jobs. At least the lack of dread would be a great improvement.

After a beat of silence, Plagg settled on his shoulder, a warm and familiar weight. "Today sucked. I'm glad Walter is going to get fired, but that whole conversation with your dad sucked. And at this point, the less said about that rooftop conversation with Ladybug, the better."

Adrien grunted in agreement.

"However, despite your entirely valid man-pain, holing up in your room and brooding is not the answer. We may wear black and have pointy ears, but we are not Batman," Plagg thumped his dangling foot against Adrien's collarbone in emphasis.

Adrien couldn't help drop his hands and snort at the image. "We could get a cape." He looked sideways at Plagg.

"No cape! Cats are too cool for capes." Plagg wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue in antipathy. "What we need is a manly distraction. Something so dangerous and foolhardy that we come close to dying, but instead have so much fun that we do it two or three more times to prove not dying wasn’t a fluke. Then we should eat unpronounceable things from a food truck at the risk of puking our guts out. Maybe play some tricks on some jerks that deserve it. I bet the cops wouldn't really arrest The Chat Noir. What do you say? Wanna sneak out and cause some chaos with me?" Plagg wheedled.

Slapping his hands on his knees, Adrien stood up. "You know what? I think I do."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your supportive comments and for reading! I love to hear your thoughts, reactions, and speculations. Next chapter: Marinette meets an old friend of Adrien’s mom and has an uncomfortable run-in with Francoise.  
> French to English Translations:  
> C’est n’importe quoi! = That’s nonsense/crap!  
> C’est naze! = That’s stupid/terrible/sucks!


	7. Photos, Showers, & Churches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and commenting!  
> Warning for sexual harassment.

 

The school bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Marinette barely refrained from doing a happy dance. It was time to play! For the first time since the busy, stressful blur of the holidays ended, she had the day off from the bakery with no akuma in sight. Stashing all of her stuff in her locker except for the small purse holding Tikki and her wallet, she tucked her coat under her arm and skipped down the hallway.

"Alya," Marinette called to her friend, "wait up! I've finally got the day off. Wanna hang out?"

Tucking a curl behind her ear, Alya threaded her arm through Marinette's and walked with her down the crowded hall. "Today? You know I would, Girlfriend, but I have yearbook today. We have to get everything finalized so we can send it off in early February. It's January already and the publisher needs several months lead if we want to keep the early bird discount and to get them all printed in time for graduation. I don't see why they need so much time, but our faculty advisor insists that they do. Then I have to have another meeting with the principle about my plans as senior class videographer."

Sighing, Marinette laid her head on Alya's taller shoulder. "We never hang out anymore."

Alya patted her arm. "I know. We're both much too busy lately. It's ridiculous! Isn't your last semester of school supposed to be a time of slacking off with no consequences? We should file a complaint with somebody."

Before Marinette could answer, Chloe passed them in the hallway. The blond glared and stuck her nose up in the air. "I can't wait to graduate and never see the two of you again."

"Same here," Marinette and Alya chorused fervently. Then they looked at each other and laughed. “Jinx!” Offended, Chloe gave a little growl and stalked off with her blond ponytail swishing like a cat's tail.

Saying goodbye to Alya at the door of the yearbook room, Marinette continued to the front steps. A familiar blond leaned against the staircase. He looked tired and the corner of his mouth drooped. Allowing herself a single, uncoordinated flail, Marinette then took a deep breath, stiffened her spine, and walked over. "Hey, Adrien, how're you doing?"

"Fine, thank you," he answered with a small, forced smile. Up close she could see faint bruising beneath his eyes. It looked like he hadn't been sleeping well.  The holidays must have been rougher than usual this year. She'd been too busy dealing with the stolen luck magic, Chat’s unhappiness, the holiday order rush at the bakery, and her unpleasant cousin to pay much attention to her school friends. Marinette needed to be a better person.

"You look a little worn down. Do you want to talk about it?" she gently coaxed. "I have the day off for the first time in forever. We could go get a hot chocolate somewhere, a cocoa for a co-cold day?"

Marinette realized she’d punned seconds later and had to fight not to wince. Puns were for cheering a certain blond cat, not for blond models who’d become friends. Would Adrien realize she was a huge dork and think less of her?

Instead, Adrien's eyes lit up with pleasure and his smile turned genuine. "Thanks. You’re a good friend. I’d normally melt at an offer of hot chocolate, but my dad's gotten a lot stricter lately." Just then his bodyguard drove up, braked, and immediately hopped out of the car. Adrien sighed. "Like that. If I disappear, I’ll be in hot water. I'm trying to negotiate some freedoms back, but it's not going well so far." He hesitated for a second before adding, "You've looked pretty stressed yourself lately. How about a raincheck on that cocoa? I'm sure we'll have lots more cold days coming. We'll find another one where we can sit down and commiserate about our problems. Deal?" He stuck out his hand.

Somehow she’d forgotten that Adrien was ten times worse with puns than she could ever be. Her fear had been silly. Adrien may be the hottest boy she’d ever met, but when you dug deeper, he was a huge nerd. It made her like him even more. _As a friend!_

"Deal," Marinette smiled, shaking his hand. Her knees trembled at his touch, but otherwise she kept it together. He had such nice hands. Most girls she knew didn't have cuticles or nails that tidy. She identified a callus from a pencil and another that probably came from his fencing foil. Then Marinette realized that she was verging on creepy and needed to let go.

"See you tomorrow in class," she said with a laugh that sounded only slightly silly. He was just her friend. She could do this. Touching his skin had just thrown her off a bit, that's all.

"Definitely," he nodded. As he leaned close, he seemed to be sniffing her, which was so strange it must be her imagination. Whatever the case, his face seemed lighter. Then he gave her a wave, turned, and ducked into the car door held open by his driver.

Once the car disappeared, Marinette cast her eyes about for someone else to hang out with. Suddenly, Alix dashed by. Before Marinette could open her mouth, Alix flagged down a friend's motorcycle, hopped on the back with a whoop, and zoomed away. She was still buckling on her helmet as they careened around a corner.

Marinette sighed and decided to wander around by herself. She didn't have her sketchbook, but she'd find something else to do. This was Paris! There had to be something interesting going on. No way was she going back to the bakery until she had to.

After half an hour of window shopping, Marinette found her eye caught by a picture of the stars. The poster advertised an exhibit with twenty years of art inspired by the night sky. A local museum was hosting the art in collaboration with the Paris Institute of Astrophysics, an affiliate of Sorbonne Universitès.

Craving a distraction, Marinette found the small museum and went inside. It was sparsely populated. Instead of having a set price for admission, there was a classy-looking donations box. Marinette put in a few bills, signed the logbook at the front desk, and then lost herself in the museum. The exhibits, photographs, and paintings were amazing. The few other patrons kept to themselves, giving her the space to drift slowly through the rooms. She felt inspired and renewed, the creativity and beauty a balm to her soul.

One room bristled with a display of astrolabes, sextants, and telescopes throughout history. Another room showcased photographs of distant galaxies and nearby meteor showers. The final room was her favorite. It held both abstract and figurative paintings that evoked the night sky. Marinette lingered in front of each canvas, drinking them in. Her fingers itched desperately for her missing sketchpad. In her mind she could picture a cowl neck sweater dress that evoked an expanding galaxy and a scarf like an orbiting moon.

Finally in creative desperation, Marinette nicked a pencil from the sign-in desk. With a guilty wince, she ripped out an empty page from the back of the log book. Then she planted herself on a bench that faced a large canvas depicting a molecular cloud forming baby stars. The painting seethed with furious creation as gold, scarlet, and white spatters erupted out of thick, three-dimensional curlicues of purple, blue, and black paint.

Enthralled with capturing her fashion vision on the lined paper, Marinette didn't notice until she'd shaded the last bead on her infinity scarf that someone stood at her shoulder, looking down. As if waking from a dream, she traced her eyes across a camel-colored corduroy sleeve, past a gray sweater vest, up a patterned navy tie, over the dark-skinned column of the man's throat, and through the hint of silver in the dark scruff of his jaw, before finally meeting a pair of intelligent and amused brown eyes. She blinked to full awareness and blushed as he cleared his throat.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, I just wanted to see what had you drawing so furiously," the man explained. "I'm Professor Adrien Ogbore with the Paris Institute of Astrophysics. I helped put together the exhibit since photography is a hobby of mine."

"Oh, it's no bother. I was just finishing anyways," Marinette assured him with embarrassment. "You've done a marvelous job with the exhibit, Professor Ogbore."

"Are you studying fashion with the University?" he asked with a friendly smile. 

Slipping her sketch into her purse, she stood up and grinned back. "Not yet, but one day I hope to be a fashion designer. Right now, I'm still a senior in high school. All of these amazing artworks have definitely inspired me, though."

Tilting his head to the side, he hesitated for a moment. Then he carefully asked, "Would you like to see a photo that didn't make the exhibit? I have it in the back."

Crinkling her brow, Marinette bit her lip and hesitated. She was interested, but the museum suddenly seemed deserted. Even with her advantages as Ladybug, it didn't seem prudent to go off somewhere private with a man she'd just met. Good luck could only do so much to counteract dangerous decisions.

As if sensing her caution, Professor Ogbore took a step back and put his hands in his pockets. It made him look more harmless. "It's a fashion piece, which is why I offered. I can bring it out to the front desk if you want to wait there? Otherwise I’ll leave you to your sketching, mademoiselle."

"Please, call me Marinette. I'd love to see the photo, thank you." Marinette felt relieved at being able to release her suspicions.

"I'll meet you up front," he promised.

A few minutes later, Professor Ogbore came out of the back office and around the front desk. He carried a large manila envelope in one hand. Unwinding the ties at the top, he paused for a moment to quietly blow out a nervous breath. Marinette felt her curiosity ratchet higher as he quickly flicked back the flap as if removing a bandage from a wound. A paper-sized photo slid out into his bent fingers. Sighing, he laid it reverently on the counter and then looked over for her reaction.

Leaning forward, Marinette's breath caught in her throat. A beautiful woman stood silhouetted in front of a large circular window. It was leaded and pieced together with flowing geometric shapes to resemble the petals of a flower. The moon, stars, and clouds shone dimly through the glass. A light source inside illuminated the woman’s face and one arm, but left the rest of her body and the room swathed in shadow.

A small opening in the center of the window, probably for the body of a telescope, let in the evening breeze. It lifted the woman’s long, pale hair ethereally into the air and made her dress float behind her body like the tail of a shooting star. Whoever had designed the dress was a genius. It molded to her body seamlessly. The shooting star effect was enhanced by the starburst pattern of the bodice picked out in glittering metallic thread and crystals. The moonlight streamed through the trailing fabric of her gown as it billowed in the breeze, making the fabric glow like swirling smoke and picking out an intricate pattern of embroidery that hinted at flames.

The photographer had captured a complicated expression on the woman’s beautiful face. Her green eyes crinkled at the corners in a delicate smile, gazing at the stars outside the window with joyful wonder. However, her slightly parted lips pulled down, anchored to the earth in a silent sigh of heartbreaking longing.

"Oh," Marinette finally found the breath to exclaim. "It's glorious, magnificent, amazing! The dress, the model, the scene, it's all breathtaking. Literally," she breathed, her hands hovering in the air.

"Yes, it is." When she looked up, Professor Ogbore had a complicated look of sadness, regret, and pride on his face. "It's probably my best work, but few people have ever seen it. You see, I wanted her to see it first before showing it publically, but she never got the chance. I took it for her, after her fiancé made the shooting star dress for a competition. It was to be a collaboration of art. We intended to show the photo in a gallery exhibit much like this, but then she…" he trailed off, carefully choosing his next words, "became ill. When she recovered, her family let her finish out the term, but then withdrew her from graduate school and the prestigious summer internship I'd secured her, despite my pleadings. She could have been at the forefront of our field, but they thought it too much to expect of a woman, too much stress for her mind and too distracting from her place as a homemaker."

Bitterness twisted his lips, "Although Marie dreamed of the secrets of the stars, belonged in a world illuminated by science, she obeyed her family. She excused it by saying that she also dreamed of having a family, of becoming a wife and mother. Perhaps as a man I can't fully understand how those different dreams tore at her. She wanted it all, but the world and her family wouldn't let her have it, so she had to choose. She didn’t choose astrophysics and that made me feel like she wasn’t choosing me.”

Professor Ogbore flung out his hands in frustration, but then curled them into fists and dropped them to his sides. “The last time we spoke, she said she could always finish her degree later when her future children were in school too, but I was so angry at what she was throwing away that I was cruel. I regret parting from her like that. I couldn't bear to look at the photo again, much less share it with others. It wasn’t until this last Christmas that I rediscovered it. I intended to finally show it here, but at the last minute, I hid it away again."

Huffing quietly, he sent Marinette a shrug. "Then I saw you and your sketch. You have a stubborn chin and intense focus, just like she did. It made me want to finally show someone her photo. Marie deserves to be remembered. Maybe somewhere, she can feel my apology for how I left things between us. Thank you."

Curling her fingers into her palms to resist the strange urge to touch the woman in the photo, Marinette stared at the picture with an ache in her chest. The longer she stared, the more a feeling of familiarity swelled. "I've obviously never seen this picture before," Marinette said slowly, "but something about the design of the dress and even the model's face seem extremely familiar. Can you tell me Marie's full name? And who designed the dress?"

Professor Ogbore touched the edge of the photo with a fingertip and heaved a complicated sigh. "The model is Marie Martin, one of the first students I ever advised and by far the brightest. Her face is beautiful, but it paled in comparison to her mind. The things she could do with math, her passion for the physics of the heavens, she was," his voice thickened, forcing him to stop and clear his throat. He continued in a lighter tone of voice, "She was like a star herself."

"Why wouldn’t her family let her finish school if she was so brilliant?" Marinette asked, compassion and curiosity warring in her mind.

Shoulders stooping, he looked off into the distance. "They didn't respect her intelligence, only her position as the only child of an old family legacy. She wouldn't go against her parents, so she stopped school to get married and start a family. Her fiancé built her the observatory in my photo when their engagement was announced, before she even left for college. She thought it meant he would continue to support her studies, her passion for the stars, but in her naiveté she never questioned why it stayed an empty shell without a telescope at its center, even five years later when this photo was taken.”

“Marie’s fiancé designed the dress, actually. His name’s Gabriel Agreste." Through a ringing in her ears, Marinette heard, "Perhaps you've heard of him. I hear he became quite famous as a designer. As for Marie, she mysteriously disappeared one day, her light lost from the world much too soon. Perhaps that's why she shined so brightly when I knew her." Professor Ogbore's face crumpled. Marinette looked away to give him some privacy and settle her thoughts.

Staring back at the picture, Marinette could see bits of Adrien in the lines of Marie's nose, the curve of her brow, the silent ache of loneliness on her lips. She now remembered that she’d seen a picture of Marie years ago on Adrien's computer. As for Marie’s dress, considering how Marinette had obsessively studied the Gabriel fashion line for years, no wonder it had seemed so familiar.

"I know their son, Adrien," Marinette finally said, wrenching her eyes away from the photo. "He's my friend. Can I- can I bring him by? To see the photo and talk to you? I know he'd want to know more about his mother."

Then Marinette’s mouth dropped open as she had a realization. “Wait, Adrien and you are both named Adrien. Is that just a coincidence?”

Professor Ogbore, _Adrien_ Ogbore, blinked back tears and looked away, his dark skin failing to hide the red suffusing his skin after the emotional discussion. "I'd like to finally meet him, if he’s willing. Marie used to tease that she'd name either her first star or her first son after me, but I didn't think she was serious."

Wiping a hand across his face, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a card. "Let me know when he'd like to come by. The next couple of weeks are hectic, but maybe February? I’ll make a copy of the photo for Adrien to take. His mother was an amazing woman. She deserves to be remembered for her mind as well as her heart."

"Thank you, I’ll do that." Marinette carefully took the card and tucking it into her purse. She turned to go, but the Professor’s sad face stopped her. "Adrien's best subject in school," she blurted out. "You should know that it's physics."

Professor Ogbore looked at her in surprise for a moment before a smile creased his face, reaching all the way into his eyes. "It makes me very happy to hear that. Thank you." Then he returned the photo to its envelope, pressed it gently against his chest, and disappeared into the back room.

Happy at the thought of introducing Adrien and Professor Ogbore, Marinette smiled and made her way home.

* * *

 

That night, Marinette set Tikki up in her room with a box of raspberry macarons. Then she grabbed an armful of clean clothes and went downstairs to hop into the shower. Now that Francois was living with them, she made sure to securely lock the door. She checked it three times while the water heated up. Little things that used to be unimportant now made her anxious.

She'd expected to feel better with Francois around. He helped out a lot around the bakery. In fact, they’d only gotten all of the Christmas and New Year orders finished because of his help. With only a couple more weeks until her father’s cast came off, her parents had started discussing keeping him on even after her father recovered. They respected Francois’s work and enjoyed his company. Her parents seemed happier with him around.

Unfortunately, Marinette felt worse.

All of Francois’s casual touches made her very uncomfortable. When she asked him to stop, he acted like she was just being a silly little girl. Was she being silly? Maybe she was. Her father said she was too used to being an only child and always getting her way. Francois was always telling her to relax and stop being so uptight. Maybe his behavior was completely normal in a big family. She was probably overreacting.

Going to sigh, she found herself gargling hot water from the shower. Turning to the side, she coughed and spit it out. It would be cold water soon. She should stop worrying about Francois and get on with the business of showering. Marinette reached for her shampoo.

Suddenly, over the sound of the shower, she heard the doorknob rattle. Her fingers froze in midair. A minute passed in silence.

Forcing her muscles to unclench, she chided herself for being silly and reached for the soap dish instead. Only the merest sliver of soap remained. Annoyed, she made a mental note to get a new bar when she finished.

Then she heard a scraping sound, followed by a wash of cold air blowing in around the edges of the shower curtain. Skin prickling, she listened with growing dread to the soft thud of the door closing. "Who's there?" she asked tightly, unable to stand the silence for a second longer.

"Just me, Mar-bear," answered Francois's voice jovially from way too close. His large form cast a dark silhouette onto the curtain.

"Get out, I'm in the shower!" Marinette shrieked, huddling back against the tile wall and crossing her arms over her chest.

"I can see that," he drawled, "or at least, hear that. I haven't seen anything… yet," he chuckled darkly.

Heart pounding wildly, Marinette tried to remind herself that she was really Ladybug. She beat up bad guys all the time. However, standing naked in the shower, she didn't feel very heroic. She felt vulnerable, nauseous, and scared.

That didn't mean she'd let him do whatever he wanted, though. Snatching up the shampoo bottle, she held it like a weapon, fully prepared to hit him using all of her enhanced Ladybug strength. She’d make him regret coming in here.

Marinette heard the sound of the cabinet door opening and closing. Then rustling plastic and cardboard ripping. "I forgot to put in a new bar of soap after I showered," he said casually, as if he hadn't just picked the lock on the door and walked in on her uninvited. "Here you go," his hand abruptly appeared around the edge of the curtain, holding a bar of soap. Marinette pressed herself back against the opposite wall and clutched her shampoo bottle tightly.

"Go away," she squeaked.

The hand wiggled, then lowered to place the soap on the edge of the tub. "There's no reason to be so difficult. I can even help wash your back. I know you'd like that," his voice turned huskily.

"You're deluded," she said shakily. "Get out or else!" When the shadow on the other side of the curtain moved closer, she threw the shampoo bottle over the top of the shower curtain.

"Ow, dammit!" he swore and stumbled back.

Marinette snatched up the conditioner bottle. "I locked the door for a reason. Now GET OUT! Before I start throwing the conditioner and razorblades!"

"That's not a very nice thing to do to your cousin," he growled, then breathed heavily for a moment. "But unlike you, I can be nice _, very_ nice. I'll catch you later, Mar-bear. You can count on that."

A few seconds later, she heard the door shut. Not trusting him, she waited a full minute before peeking out from behind the shower curtain. The bathroom was empty except for the dented shampoo bottle on the floor.

Marinette shut off the water. Then she reached out with trembling fingers and grabbed a towel. After covering her body, she leapt out and relocked the door. It took her longer than usual to get dressed with the way her fingers fumbled on the buttons of her pajama top. She felt slightly numb, unable to believe what had just happened.

Cracking open the door, she peeked out, but didn't see anyone. As fast as she could, she scurried up the stairs to her room. Then she closed and latched the trapdoor.

"What's wrong, Marinette?" Tikki asked from her empty box of cookies. "Are you alright?"

"N-no," Marinette whimpered, sinking down onto her bed and hugging the cat pillow to her chest. "Cousin Francois just walked in on me in the shower."

"Oh, that does sound embarrassing," Tikki commiserated, flying over to hover by her face.

Marinette shook her head. "No, you don't understand. I locked the door before I got in. You know having him in the house makes me uncomfortable." Swallowing hard, she hunched forward miserably. "Tikki, he picked the lock and came in while I was showering. He offered to wash my back. When I screamed at him and threw the shampoo, he promised to ‘catch me later’ before he left. What am I going to do?"

"Why, that scoundrel!" Tikki seethed. "You need to march downstairs right now and tell your parents. I heard them come in a few minutes ago."

"But what if he's down there too?" Marinette asked anxiously.

"Your parents are there. Don’t be scared. Remember, you’re Ladybug." Tikki encouraged.

Marinette couldn't even muster up a smile. "Not in pajamas, I'm not. I'm just clumsy Marinette."

Suddenly someone knocked on the trapdoor covering the stairs. "Marinette? We're home from our walk," her mother called. "Can you come downstairs for a minute?"

Patting her shoulder encouragingly, Tikki said, "Go on. You can do it."

Nodding, Marinette took a deep breath for courage. "Coming, mama," she called.

When Marinette walked into the living room, she saw only her parents. Her tense shoulders relaxed slightly. Then her mother stood up and started towards the kitchen. "Oh, don't do that, Francois. I can put away the groceries." Marinette's body went taut as a bowstring.

"Nonsense, Sabine," Francois said as he stepped into view in the kitchen. "I'm here to do all of the heavy lifting until Tom is better, remember? You work too hard as it is. I saw you reaching for your headache medicine when you got home. Go on and sit down. Give the pills a chance to kick in."

"Marinette," her father rumbled, drawing her attention back to where he sat, "what is this I hear about you attacking Francois?"

"What?" Marinette asked incredulously.

Her mother walked into the living room and sat down with a drawn look on her face. "He told us that he accidentally walked in on you in the bathroom. I know that must have been embarrassing, but you know that you are also responsible for locking the door behind you. The poor man has a fat lip because of you. You could have at least asked him to get out first before attacking him unawares."

"What?" she asked again, having trouble processing that her parents were blaming her for what had just happened. "But I did lock the door."

"I'm sure you think so, but you probably forgot. It's not like you haven't forgotten to lock the door before," her mother prodded gently. It was true that she hadn't always locked the door in the past, but it hadn't mattered when it was just her and her parents living here.

Sighing, her father adjusted his casted arm with a wince before leaning forward. "Francois is our guest. He apologized for walking in on you first thing when we got home. I think you owe him an apology as well."

Marinette stared at her parents, speechless. "But- but he walked in on me. You don't understand, he-" before she could explain, she got cut off by her father's sternly raised palm.

The lines on her father's face cut more deeply than usual. "That's enough, Marinette. It was an accident. We have to live together for several more weeks until this arm of mine fully heals. We can't keep the bakery open without Francois. I need you to get along with him." Her father's face drooped with unhappiness. "Please? For your father's sake?"

_What could she say in the face of her father's words?_

Francois walked in carrying a tray with a cup of water and her father's medicine. "Here you go, Tom. I can tell that arm is hurting you right now," he sat the tray down on the coffee table. Then he turned to Marinette, revealing a swollen lip and a dark red scab where she'd hit him with the shampoo bottle. "And Marinette doesn't have to apologize to me. It was just a simple accident. No hard feelings for the fat lip, even though it will make kissing the ladies difficult for a few days," he winked at her parents, making them chuckle. Then he turned back to her. "Maybe that was your plan all along, Mar-bear," he teased.

She just stared at their united front, completely lost.

"Marinette?" her dad prompted at her continuing silence.

"Okay," she finally croaked out. Marinette felt nauseous. "I have to finish up my homework. Good night." Turning, she retreated back to her room.

After latching the trapdoor, she dragged her desk chair on top to weigh it down, just in case. "Oh, Marinette," Tikki commiserated, "I'm so sorry. Maybe if you went back down and tried to explain again…," she trailed off as Marinette shook her head sharply.

"I'm going to call Alya. She'll know what to do, how to say it right," Marinette muttered feverishly, blinking back tears as she snatched up her phone and dialed her best friend. It rang and rang before going to voicemail. Maybe Alya was in the shower or busy with her family. Marinette hung up and then dialed again, but got the same result. She tried a third time before giving up and flinging her phone onto the desk with frustration. It skidded halfway off the edge but luckily didn’t fall.

Pacing back and forth across the room didn’t help either. Tugging at her hair, Marinette stopped to stare out the window. Seeing her despondent reflection, she laughed bitterly. "Is this what Alya felt like right before she became Lady Wifi?"

"Marinette," Tikki began worriedly, but Marinette cut her off. She couldn’t stand more platitudes right now.

"Just kidding. Don't worry, it's just for a few more weeks, right?" She turned away from the window with forced nonchalance. "If being Ladybug didn’t force me to lie so much, maybe they’d trust me more than some distant cousin they’ve only lived with for a few weeks, but hey, that’s life, right?” She shrugged and purposely didn’t look at Tikki’s reaction.

“I don't want to be one of Hawk Moth's minions. If an akuma shows up, I'll make sure not to touch it. It's just that Daddy can't keep the bakery going on his own.  Mom and I aren't enough. He really does need Francois's help to keep the bakery going until his arm's better. I can last a few more weeks. I'll just have to be more careful, that's all. Worse comes to worse, I can hit him again. I do know how to fight now, even when I'm not Ladybug. I may not be as fast or as strong, but having the miraculous still gives me an edge. I'll be fine," she reassured Tikki, wiping away the tears trickling down her cheeks and trying not to break into sobs.

Maybe if she could convince Tikki, she could convince herself. She just had to keep repeating it. Talking about him anymore was useless.

Snatching her phone back up, she typed out a quick text to Alya.

_Nvrmind. Figured it out. Ttyl._

Then she blew out a quivering breath and sat down. Picking up her history book, she read through the assigned chapter, despite her watering eyes having trouble staying in focus. Tikki snuggled up against her arm sorrowfully, unable to fix things, but reminding Marinette that at least she wasn't alone.

* * *

 

“Look out!” a bystander shouted. Snapping out of her thoughts, Ladybug took in the danger. Quickly flinging her yoyo at the white steeple topping a modern little church nearby, Ladybug barely pulled herself out of the way of the spinning paddle in time. The razor-sharp edge sliced a hot line across her cheek. Pain quickly followed the heat.

Crouched on top of the church roof, she delicately touched the slice and winced at the sting. Lately, Hawk Moth’s minions were consistently drawing her blood. The escalation added a layer of fear to an already stressful situation. Marinette had too much to be afraid of lately.

Dark Kayak, her current opponent, scowled as his paddle boomeranged back into his hand with a hard slap. He was a large bear of a man wearing a life vest and round helmet. He wore mostly white with neon blue and red accents. “Stop floating through this fight, Ladybug!” he snapped. “Either give up and hand over your Miraculous or else pay attention to me and fight back! Beating you won’t mean anything if you don’t even try. This is a competition, a fight, not naptime, so come on!”

When Chat didn’t immediately jump in to verbally defend her, she knew her partner had noticed her distraction too. Grimacing with guilt, she made herself focus on the fight instead of her large opponent’s resemblance to her perverted cousin. She was letting her problems as Marinette distract her from her duties as Ladybug. If she wasn’t more careful, other people would get hurt too. The warm blood dribbling down her cheek only reinforced her fears.

After a quick breath, she narrowed her eyes and dived off her perch into a somersault kick aimed at her opponent. Chat used his baton to knock away the paddle swinging towards her back. She was pretty sure that the akuma was in Dark Kayak’s life vest. Ladybug just had to figure out how to break something that squishy. Popping up from her roll behind Dark Kayak’s back, she yanked hard at the vest, hoping her superior strength would break the buckles.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work. Dark Kayak tripped backwards, taking her with him as he latched onto her body and flipped her beneath him face down. His large arms pressed her down, grinding her face painfully against the ground. Wrenching her arm free, she elbowed him in the face. He reared back in pain, allowing Ladybug to rotate in his grip. With a grunt, she kicked her legs up and wrapped her thighs around his neck, squeezing hard to cut off his air and give Chat time to rush in. The back of her head banged hard against the sidewalk, making her skull throb, but she kept up the pressure.

Dark Kayak pounded his meaty fists painfully against her legs. Gripping harder and locking her ankles, Ladybug just hoped that she could hold out long enough. Already her legs were burning and a muscle on the back of her thigh started to twitch.

Then she felt more than saw Chat Noir dart forward. He moved like swaying shadows, leaving only faint gold and green blurs behind her blinking eyes. Whipping out a hand that seemed to swallow the light around it, Chat sliced across the life vest with sharp claws.

Despite the speed and lethality of those claws so close to her straining legs, Ladybug felt no fear. In battle, she trusted him completely. If only she felt that confident in other areas. Nevertheless, she watched in appreciation as Chat’s narrowed green eyes carefully calculated the strike so nothing got nicked but what he intended to, not even their opponent’s skin. He knew Dark Kayak was a victim too.

Beneath her legs she felt the vest slide back on Dark Kayak’s shoulders as the straps parted. A fierce grin burst across her face. _They were so close!_

But in her moment of distraction, Dark Kayak used her slipping grip and his superior size to wrench out of her hold. Grabbing her ankle, he flung her into the air. She landed on Chat, sending her partner sprawling.

However, Dark Kayak didn’t let go of her ankle. Instead, he tightened his grip and used his long arms and akuma-enhanced strength to swing her up into the air in a tight circle around his body. He rotated her three times and then, at the height of the arc, let go, sending her flying. She curled protectively. Seconds later, Ladybug slammed hard into the glass doors of the nearby church, shattering the glass panels, bruising her back, and knocking the breath from her lungs.

Through her desperate gasps and the pain spiking through her muscles, she heard high-pitched screams from inside the church. Forcing her eyes open, she turned her head and focused watering eyes. Colorful toys were scattered through the open foyer and a group of women and children huddled in the far corner.

_It wasn’t even Sunday_ , she thought crabbily as she pulled herself up to her feet using the now-empty doorframe. _Did these people really need to be here today?_ The last thing she needed right now were bystanders in danger to further split her focus. Fighting Dark Kayak was already hard enough.

One of the children peeked up from her mother’s shoulder with baby doll eyes. Ladybug’s irritation melted into a puddle of goo at the cuteness. She felt guilty for her irritation.

“Cataclysm!” cried Chat Noir, wrenching her attention back outside. He’d regained his feet and launched another attack while she recovered. A distinctive black aura formed around his cupped hands as he sprang forward, green eyes narrowed in determination. He swiped at the dangling life vest, trying to destroy it.

Ladybug pulled out her yoyo in preparation to catch the escaping akuma, but then disaster struck. In desperation, Dark Kayak kicked his dropped paddle into Chat’s legs. Chat didn’t see it until it was too late. He tripped forward. His opponent dodged back.

One black-gloved fingertip bubbling with destructive energy brushed against the church. Although only a glancing touch, it was enough. The church’s façade absorbed Chat’s Cataclysm and began disintegrating. A lattice of jagged lines raced away from his touch and across the front of the building, like an eggshell going to pieces after being cracked against the counter. When people started screaming, Dark Kayak took advantage of Chat’s guilty distraction to kick the hero, sending his body flying down the street.

Ladybug had to trust her partner to save himself. Turning, she flung herself into the collapsing church and towards the crying children. As the roof began to collapse, her eyes scoured the room for a miracle. _There! The granite table!_

Flinging out her yoyo, Ladybug snagged the leg of the heavy table. Then she dived in front of the people bunched up in the corner, eyes passing over the teary-eyed toddler who reminded her uncomfortably of a younger Manon. Still skidding, Ladybug twisted her torso and heaved with all her desperate, magic-enhanced strength at the marble table.

Luck was on her side.

The table jumped up onto its end, a tall slab of stone that slid forward towards their corner just in time to catch the falling ceiling beam with a grating boom. Debris and dust from the damaged building continued to crash to the floor. Instinctively she covered her head with her arms. When the noises stopped, she wiped her tearing eyes and saw that their little alcove remained remarkably intact.

Heaving herself to her feet, she ignored the painful popping of her joints and turned to the people huddled behind her. For a second the room spun and her stomach heaved, but she breathed through her nose until everything settled down. “Is everyone alright?” she asked, silently counting five women and eight children.

“We’re frightened, but no one’s really hurt, praise the Lord,” a middle-aged woman finally answered after looking around. She wore a pink caftan. With her dark hair, caramel skin, and distinctive nose, she looked Moroccan or maybe Maghreb. A dark-haired toddler in a burgundy dress and Hello Kitty leggings sniffled against her neck, the child still covered by the protective arch of her mother’s chest and arms.

“Thank you, Ladybug,” lisped a freckled little boy in the back with bright red hair undimmed by the fine layer of powder covering everyone. He wiped his nose with a dirt-covered sleeve, leaving a streak of wetness across his cheek.

A young woman Ladybug assumed to be his mother brushed dust off his hair and face with trembling hands. Turning the hem of her shirt inside-out, she wiped his cheeks clean. “Yes, God blessed us by sending you in our hour of need. Thank you, Ladybug.” The others chimed in with their own thanks over the sounds of crying children.

“Of course,” Ladybug answered uncomfortably. “I just wish our fight hadn’t endangered you in the first place.” Her eyes examined the floor and ceiling for a way to escape. When she poked at the rubble piled up by the table, everything quivered. A chunk of drywall tumbled to the floor at her feet.

Immediately she snatched her hand back and jumped away. Nothing else fell. Unfortunately, they looked solidly trapped. Ladybug couldn’t risk the others’ safety by prodding the rubble anymore. She was trapped in here, leaving Chat Noir alone in a fight he couldn’t finish by himself. She sighed with frustration and worry.

“I think we’re going to have to wait for someone to dig us out,” the Moroccan woman said, echoing Ladybug’s thoughts as she rubbed the back of the child in her arms. “Jane already called for help on her cell phone, unless you have another trick up your sleeve?” She arched an eyebrow hopefully.

Shoulders drooping, Ladybug shook her head. “I’m afraid not.” Then she took in the disappointment and fear in the room and added bracingly, “But I’m sure Chat Noir will break us out in no time, either him or the emergency responders. They’re all very good. As soon as I’m out, we’ll defeat this guy and I’ll reverse all of the damage with my Miraculous Ladybug. Don’t worry about it.”

“Sounds good. Let’s say a quick prayer to help us feel better. Then we can gather up those blocks and trains and build ourselves a train station. Let’s pretend this is our secret cave hideout and sing some songs while we wait. How does that sound?” a plump blond woman encouraged the children. Her sweet smile wobbled for a moment before stabilizing. Although her cheer seemed forced, she nevertheless soon had most of the children distracted and engaged in the back corner where things were most stable.

Freeing her yoyo from the table leg, Ladybug rolled it up and hung it back on her belt. She turned away from the group for a moment to carefully run her fingers over her head. More cuts had joined the one on her cheek. Something on her scalp stung fiercely. Even worse than the pain, though, Ladybug hated feeling guilty, out of control, and helpless.

“I’m Jihenne Bey, by the way,” the Moroccan-looking woman said, hitching her daughter higher on one hip and giving Ladybug a sideways glance. “Are you alright?” She gestured to her face.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Ladybug answered automatically, “and I’m fine, don’t worry.” She carefully wiped dirt and crusted blood off her chin. Even if she wasn’t in control, she wanted to at least look like she wasn’t about to fall apart. People were counting on her.

Babydoll eyes with long, tear-clumped eyelashes peeked up from Jihenne’s shoulder. Smiling softly, Ladybug gently asked, “And who is this sweetie?”

Dropping a kiss on her daughter’s head, Jihenne turned so the little girl could see Ladybug better. “This is Leila. She’s my miracle baby.” She kissed her head again and the girl laid her cheek flat on her mother’s shoulder and regarded Ladybug with solemn curiosity. Jihenne gestured, “Come, let’s get comfortable while we wait.”

Stepping over to the wall, she slid down until she was sitting on the floor with her daughter cradled in her arms. Then she tilted her head invitingly. With nothing else to do, Ladybug joined her. Leila darted out to grab a handful of blocks and then curled back into her mother’s lap.

“You’re much younger than I expected,” Jihenne mused as she examined Ladybug’s face from up close while absentmindedly stabilizing the base of her daughter’s block tower, “barely older than my daughter, Kenza. She just turned fifteen this week.”

“Fifteen was a long time ago,” Ladybug said wryly, thinking of the first few months of figuring out her powers, a time when she was also still feeling out her partnership with Chat Noir. _Had it really been three years?_ Then she shook her head, “But you were going to tell me about your children, Madame Bey.”

Jihenne’s eyes twinkled for a moment. “Jihenne, please, but very well, I’ll try to restrain my curiosity about you and instead speak about myself, though Kenza will kill me for not at least asking if you and Chat Noir are romantically involved. She’s a big fan.”

Red tinging her cheeks, Ladybug shook her head and gave her standard answer. “No, we’re just partners and good friends.” She should be used to this question by now. The fact that it made her blush, that sometimes she wished she could answer differently, wasn’t something she could afford to think about.

“She’ll be crushed, but I’ll try to leave the rest of your secrets alone,” Jihenne promised. “As for me, I have three children: Kenza at fifteen, Abbas at twelve, and my little Leila here at two. We didn’t expect Leila, but I can’t imagine our family without her.”

Then she gestured at the women and children in the corner. “This is our church’s weekly playgroup. It’s a chance to get out of the house in the winter and have Leila play with kids her own age without indulging in overpriced fried potatoes at a fast food restaurant.”

“Why not the park?” Ladybug asked.

Sighing wryly, Jihenne answered, “I _wish_ we’d gone to the park. It was supposed to snow, so we came to the church. Instead, we got clear skies, mild temperatures, and an attack by an evilized kayak racer. I’m just glad you chose to stop and protect us when the building collapsed.”

Uncomfortable with the praise, Ladybug waved it off. “You’re a bunch of moms and kids. Of course I tried to protect you. I just wish I’d done a better job of it.”

Falling into a frown, Ladybug traced a spot on her suit absently. “Just this morning, I was thinking about how at least I was good at being a superhero, even if my normal life is a mess right now. Shows what I know,” her fists clenched. Glancing over at the mothers playing with their children in the corner, she mused enviously, “It must be nice to not have to worry about who or what to be anymore.”

Jihenne’s eyebrows lifted and her voice went wry, “I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

Ladybug bit her lip and turned back. “Did that sound rude? I’m sorry. I just meant that you’re all done growing up. You’re raising your own kids now and don’t have to worry about it anymore. I’m still trying to figure it all out, like what my next step is or how to balance the expectations and responsibilities of my normal life with my responsibility to battle Hawk Moth and protect Paris. I’ve barely kept it together and now things are changing again. I always intended to go to college and pursue my dream career, but I’m not sure that’s even feasible anymore.”

She hesitated, but Jihenne’s attentive and nurturing expression made it easy to confide in her. “I’m not a kid anymore. Lately, I’ve been thinking that maybe I need to stop dreaming of a normal life and try to focus on being more practical. Sometimes I don’t want to be Ladybug anymore, but maybe what I really need to do it put more time in as Ladybug. At least I always know what to do as Ladybug. With the way that Hawk Moth’s minions are getting stronger lately, I feel like I have to change something. I don’t want to let people down. I don’t want us to lose,” she trailed off unhappily, threading and unthreading her fingers.

“That sounds like a tough decision,” Jihenne said slowly. “Only you can make the best decision for which direction to take your life, but there’s something I’d like you to consider.” She broke off for a moment as Leila crawled out of her lap to join her friends in the corner with their pile of trains.

Tucking the sweep of nutmeg-colored hair behind one ear, Jihenne met her eyes squarely. “Life has taught me that I’m never done growing up, even at my age.” She smiled wryly, the laugh lines around her eyes crinkling, “Dreaming doesn’t stop, we simply refine or replace old dreams with new ones. Life changes us, just as it changes what our dreams are and their timing. Sometimes a distant dream can come true in a month, while others must wait decades. A woman is not so simple as to be defined by a single dream or title. Don’t limit yourself either. For instance,” she turned and gestured, “when you look at us ladies, you just see ‘simple’ mothers, right?”

Confused but listening intently, Ladybug slowly nodded. 

Jihenne leaned forward. “But being a mother isn’t simple. Motherhood is both a wondrous and heavy gift. Being a really good mom is hard. Jeanne, the blond over there, is amazing at it compared to me, yet even she struggles with doubts.” Then she winked, “As my kids will tell you, I’ve yet to master being a perfect parent. Nevertheless, motherhood is a glorious dream that I was blessed to have come true. Some women don’t want to be a mother and that’s their choice. As for me, I carefully planned to have two kids, but God laughed and gave me three. I always dreamed of motherhood, but it wasn’t my only dream and the way it came about changed my other dreams in ways I didn’t expect.”

Pausing for a moment to look over at her daughter, she smiled wryly. “Would it surprise you to know that this frazzled-looking mother was once upon a time a hairsbreadth away from a Ph.D. in Ecology, Evolution & Behavior? Instead, I left school with a Masters of Science, a new religion, an M-R-S, and an M-O-M instead. Is it surprising that I love to cook, but hate cleaning and offload it on my husband and children whenever possible? That I can’t hold a tune, but used to sing loudly as I walked around in public in hope of being discovered as the next big pop star? That I’ve taught physiology to future doctors and Sunday school to children?” Jihenne gestured expansively. “I intended to get married and have my husband follow my career. He respected my work and agreed to it before the wedding. Instead, life happened and I ended up following his. I’ve bounced between teaching college-level biology, being a stay-at-home mom, and selling cakes out of my home depending on my family’s needs and my own preferences. I never imagined anything like this when I was your age.”

Smiling, Jihenne pointed to the corner, “My blond friend Jeanne over there is amazing with people and plays the harp like an angel. Lupe has a doctorate in math and gardens when she’s not too busy with her research and family. Zara knows every neighbor on her street and last week woke up early to shovel off their driveways so no one was snowed in, despite simultaneously breastfeeding both a baby and a toddler. Anouk is infertile, but adopted two brothers and volunteers as an advocate for special needs children. On any given day at least one of us is a hot mess, running late, or on the verge of a breakdown. We’ve also been known to laugh so loudly in restaurants that we’ve had complaints from management. We’re all women here with lots of successes and failures, we’re all mothers, but none of us are simply _just_ that. None of us are made of only one dream.”

Putting a hand on Ladybug’s knee, she squeezed gently. “Neither Ladybug nor the girl behind your mask have to be limited in their dreams either.”

Leila came racing back and jumped at her mother fearlessly, causing Jihenne to “ _oof”_ in surprise as she caught the little girl and proceeded to drop messy kisses up and down her face until the toddler collapsed into a giggling heap against her chest. Then the older woman looked up with a smile. “Dreams change as we live our lives. The only way to stop dreaming new dreams is to stop listening to your heart. Some dreams we make come true, some we bid farewell, and some we merely put on hold for a while.”

“My grandmother had a favorite saying, ‘ _Amrek ma tkoul ndemt dima koul t3alemt_.’ It means, ‘Never say I regret, always say I learned.’ It brings me comfort when I think of it. I know I’m practically a stranger, but I believe that you’ll be fine, no matter what path you choose or what face you wear. You’ve shown us all the quality of your heart in the way you strive to protect this city and her people. God will bless you with the strength to make it through whatever comes. I believe in you.” Jihenne met her eyes with confidence and sincerity.

“Believe in bug!” Leila unexpectedly exclaimed, nodding her head so firmly that her pig-tails bounced and she almost fell sideways off her mother’s lap.

Unexpected tears spilled from Ladybug’s eyes, dripping over her mask and rolling down her cheeks. Wiping them away, she sniffled, but strangely enough, found herself smiling too. “Thank you. Your children are lucky to have you, Jihenne.”

Before anything else could be said, the roof above their heads peeled back, bringing a shaft of bright yellow sunlight into their dim corner. Seconds later, the worried face of her partner appeared. Chat sported a cut lip and his golden hair looked wilder than usual, but otherwise he seemed unhurt.

“Are you alright?” Chat demanded anxiously. Their eyes met and clung, a timeless moment caught in amber as reassurances passed back and forth silently. The tension in Chat’s jaw relaxed. She felt the lingering anxiety tightening the small of her back dissipate.

An emergency responder wearing a helmet appeared by Chat’s side. The children in the corner began cheering as a rope ladder dropped into the hole. Chat dropped down to land next to her in a crouch.

Extending a hand, he pulled her up harder than she expected, causing her to thump into his chest and the embrace of his arms, which immediately closed. Enveloped in the warmth of his body as it curved towards her, she felt safe and cared for. Instead of tensing, she relaxed as his breath ruffled through her hair.  Ladybug let her head drop to his shoulder and breathed in his familiar scent, grateful that they were both alright and together again.

She could stay here forever, but if she didn’t step back, who would save Paris? Who else would purify the akuma? As always, it came back to duty. She couldn’t let Chat get too close or they would all be lost. Not because he was weak, but because she wasn’t strong enough.

Hiding her inner longing and turmoil, she slid back out of his arms. For a moment his grip tightened. Then he stopped resisting and let her go. The side of his mouth drooped, but otherwise he voiced no objection. Chat was used to her distancing.  From the corner of her eye she saw a speculative look on Jihenne’s face, but she forced herself to ignore it.

Instead, Ladybug sent her partner a nod. “Luckily we’re all fine, puss. No need to worry. We’d all love to get out, but no one’s injured.”

Eyes heavy-lidded, Chat’s thumb reached out and gently traced just below the scabbed-over cut on her cheek. Her breath caught. “What about this?” he asked quietly.

Before she could find the air to respond, they were interrupted. “I need to use the potty!” shouted the red-headed boy from the corner. “I’m gonna pee my pants!” His words broke the tension and gave Ladybug an excuse to turn away from her partner’s mesmerizing opal green eyes before she said something she’d regret later. Chat laughed and helped the boy scramble up the ladder to the people on the roof.

Once everyone made it outside and were being clucked over by the paramedics or escorted to the nearest potty, Ladybug and Chat Noir took their leave. “Thank you and good luck, Ladybug!” called Jihenne. “Good luck with everything.” Meeting her eyes, Ladybug nodded in gratitude. Then she flew away on her yoyo with Chat Noir bouncing on his staff at her heels.

The duo found Dark Kayak making mischief on the banks of the Seine. Luckily his life jacket still hung loose about his shoulders. With the scent of the river strong in the air, Ladybug called for a Lucky Charm. A jar of kids slime, neon green in color, fell into her hands. They shrugged and charged.

After a minute of furious fighting, Chat knocked the paddle out of the villain’s hands. Ladybug took advantage of the opening to throw the green slime at his eyes, blinding Dark Kayak. He frantically tried to wipe the slime off, but it gooped in his eyelashes. Darting forward, she ripped the life vest off his arms, throwing it back to Chat. Howling with triumph, Chat shredded it with his claws.

As the corrupted black butterfly zoomed up into the air, she snatched it with her yoyo compact. Then she released the purified butterfly into the air. “Bye bye, little butterfly,” she whispered. The butterflies looked so beautiful at the end, a glowing white shadowed by nothing but rainbow iridescence. It hurt her heart to think of how Hawk Moth could so easily twist that purity for his own selfish ends.

_Why did some people find it so easy to hurt others? What happened to make them blind to empathy? And how did the worst people manage to hide their natures so easily, fooling even those living side by side? People like Hawk Moth, like her cousin, Francois?_

“Ladybug? Ladybug? My _Lady_?” Chat asked with increasing volume and concern, making her realize that she’d been staring off after the butterfly in a daze of thought for much longer than normal.

Shaking herself, she apologized. “Sorry, I zoned out for a second there.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately, to be _purr_ -fectly honest,” Chat censured quietly as he handed her the empty can of slime. His attempt to lighten his words with a pun failed. “Care to tell me why?”

“There is no _why_. I said that I’m sorry,” she snapped, suddenly irritated. _They’d defeated Dark Kayak._ _Couldn’t they just focus on that for a second? On winning despite the increasingly difficult opponents?_ _This was Ladybug’s time to celebrate, not Marinette’s therapy hour._

Twisting away, she threw the can of slime into the air and called impatiently, “Miraculous Ladybug!” Light filled the sky as the swarm of shining ladybugs burst through Paris and fixed all of the damage. She couldn’t help but sigh as magic healed the slice on her cheek and the cuts on her scalp that had been hidden by her hair, along with the bruises dotting her legs from Dark Kayak’s meaty fists. Thankfully, Jihenne’s church should be fixed now too. Those women deserved good things.

After heaving an audible sigh, Chat moved to stand in front of her. “I’m just worried about you and the negative effects of the spell Plagg cast, but if you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine.” Lifting his fist, he gave her a hangdog look.

Now she felt guilty instead of annoyed. Quickly giving him a fist bump, she ignored the beeping of her earrings. “Thanks for your help today,” she said lamely, not sure what she wanted to say, just that she didn’t want him unhappy with her or angry again. “I’m sorry I got stuck. I’ll try to do better next time.”

Chat shook his head with a strange half-smile devoid of amusement. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It all worked out in the end. Just,” he hesitated for a moment as he soberly met her eyes, “take care of yourself, LB. Please. You know I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to.” He finished with an aching whisper, then swallowed hard, as if shoving further confessions back from his tongue.

“You won’t have to,” she swore, the glimpse of his hurt and uncertainty squeezing hard at her stomach. “I’ll always have your back, no matter what. I promise.” She meant the vow with every fiber of her being. “There’s no Ladybug without Chat Noir, after all. I’m _paw_ -sitive of that.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Chat’s face lit up at the pun, his cheeks turning pink and his mouth grinning wide. It made her stomach flutter. _Thank God for puns._ “Plus,” she added, “I still have to meet you for macarons one day. Let’s both be careful until then.”

Ladybug’s earrings beeped their final warning. “I’ve got to go,” she stepped back, taking a mental picture of her partner’s face to keep her strong through ‘family’ dinner tonight with her cousin. Then she gave him a nod, swung out her yoyo, and left.


	8. The Broken Mug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for attempted sexual assault and the fallout

 

Marinette was going to be late to school again, but she couldn't make herself regret it. Her parents had left early for her father’s appointment to get his cast off and Francois was stuck downstairs running the bakery. It gave her a moment to relax in her own home for the first time in what felt like forever.

Humming to herself, she started the electric kettle for some hot water to make tea. It felt chilly this morning. Maybe she should have put on a sweater instead of coming down in her PJs. Her mother had thoughtfully left a plate on the counter with a fresh croissant and a sliced orange. Marinette took a flakey bite. She realized that her mother had stopped nagging her to come down to eat unless Francois was busy downstairs. In her own way, she was trying to support her daughter, even when she didn't understand the scope of the problem.

Taking a quick bite, Marinette went up on tiptoes to get down a mug from the upper shelf. Being short was annoying when buildings were built with tall people in mind. Even the bottom shelf was level with the middle of her face. Swallowing quickly, she stretched up just a bit more and managed to scoot out her favorite mug safely. Fingers secure around the handle, she settled back onto her heels.

"You are such a tease," said Francois as he abruptly appeared in the doorway leading down to the bakery, “and I am sick of it.” 

Marinette spun around in shock. Gritting her teeth, she spat, "I don't know what you're talking about. Leave me alone, Francois."

"Oh, really?" he asked with an ugly look in his eyes, looming large as he stalked into the kitchen. Like all the men on her father's side, he was built big and bulky. However, instead of making her feel safe and cared for, his silhouette made her feel threatened.

The teakettle whistled shrilly. Jumping, Marinette turned to shut it off, hoping that he would finally notice her indifference and just leave her alone. What did he even hope to gain by acting like this? "I want nothing to do with you," she insisted, dropping a teabag in her mug from the canister on the counter. She didn't trust her self-control enough to pick up the teakettle without slamming it into his horrible face.

"Your mouth says prude, Mar-bear, but your body screams slut. It's high time I gave you what you've been panting for," he growled from behind her back.

Before she could figure out how to react to his horrible words, he pressed his body against hers, trapping her against the counter as he slid his knee between her legs and wrapped a meaty arm across her chest. His other hand reached around to pinch her nipple painfully between his fingertips. "See? Your body wants me," he breathed with husky excitement. Something uncomfortably firm twitched against her spine.

Shrieking, Marinette convulsed, ramming her elbow into his side again and again until Francois staggered back and released her. Then Marinette twisted around and slammed her mug against his head as hard as she could. It shattered.

Francois fell back, hitting his head on the counter with a dull thunk as he fell to the floor. He didn't move. Panting, Marinette kicked at his leg in case he was pretending, but he didn't even twitch. She felt angry and dirty and scared. She wasn't sure what to do next.

"Marinette! Are you alright? Marinette!" Tikki dove down the stairs from the bedroom and into the kitchen.

Spinning around in surprise, Marinette brandished the broken mug handle threateningly. Then her mind processed that it was Tikki. Panting, she dropped the handle to the floor. It broke into pieces and skittered under the cabinet overhang. She couldn’t bring herself to care about the mess. Everything seemed a little fuzzy.

Tikki came to a halt in the air and looked at the body on the ground. "Oh, what did he do?" the small red kwami growled angrily.

"He- he trapped me against the counter and grabbed m- my breast," Marinette said shakily. "Did I kill him?"

Tikki barely spared him a glance as she hugged Marinette. "Unfortunately, he's still breathing," she said pitilessly.

"What do I do now? My Dad's going to be so mad," Marinette whimpered, trying not to hyperventilate.

"Not at you," Tikki snapped. "As soon as he hears what happened, he'll kick Francois out so fast your head will spin. This dirtbag won't get away with it again.  Your Dad loves you, he won't be mad at you, Marinette."

Gathering up her courage, Marinette walked a wide path around Francois's body and went to the door leading downstairs. She could wait outside for her parents. Although chilly, it was a warm day for January. She wouldn’t freeze. They’d hear her side first and have to believe her.

However, just as she started to turn the doorknob, a chorus of shrieks sounded on the street outside, followed by a loud boom. A glowing purple blob streaked by the window. A woman laughing with insane glee glided by, followed by a bouncing Chat Noir.

Dropping her head to her chest, she squinted her eyes shut and forced herself to make a choice. "I'll have to take care of this later," Marinette turned away from the door and ran upstairs to her room with its attic exit. She snatched up her jacked on the way.

"But Marinette," Tikki argued, following at her heels, "you can't just leave him bleeding on the floor. He always twists things to make you look bad in front of your parents."

"What else am I supposed to do?" she cried. "I’m not just Marinette, I’m Ladybug. If I go down and wait, they'll never let me leave afterwards to help out Chat Noir." Tikki’s whiskers drooped. "You know he can't defeat an evilized person by himself, especially not with how dangerous they've gotten this year. Only Ladybug can purify an akuma." Marinette shrugged bitterly. “This is just the bad luck my life has become.”

Tikki flinched as if struck. "So much of my powers are going into the spell keeping your identities secret. You deserve better. Maybe I could find a way to let the other spell weaken just a little?"

"No, Tikki," Marinette sighed, feeling unnaturally old and tired, "that's unfair. Remember that Chat is probably the one in danger. He's always been less concerned with concealing his identity and who knows what his regular life is life. I get the feeling that his family doesn't treat him very well. We have to keep him safe. I know you're doing your best for me. In the ups and downs of life, I'm just caught in the downs right now. We'll fight through this together and be on the upswing in no time, I'm sure." Then she held her fist out to Tikki, "Partners?"

Giving her a look full of sympathy and love, Tikki bumped Marinette's knuckle with her little fist. "Partners."

"Alright then, Tikki, Spots On!" Marinette called. Then she raced off to save Paris once again as Ladybug, resolutely keeping her mind off the unconscious man downstairs or the physical and emotional ache in her chest.

After a long fight full of near misses and miraculous saves, they finally purified the akuma and healed the damage to the city. School was already half-over by that point. Marinette seriously considered skipping the rest of it. What if her parents came looking for her there? What if Francois showed up pointing a finger in accusation?

"Ladybug?" Chat hesitantly asked.

"Yeah?" Anxiety left her feeling slightly out of breath. Her earrings beeped, making the feeling worse. She wasn't ready to be Marinette yet.

"Something is wrong with you," Chat said in a quiet undertone.

"No, no, I'm fine," she reassured automatically.

"My lady," he said firmly, "we won this fight by the skin of our teeth. You were distracted and all over the place. This has been coming to a head for weeks. Please, can't you tell me what's wrong? Let me help," he begged.

Pulling hard at her pigtails, Marinette bit her tongue on the words threatening to burst from her mouth. "I- I can't tell you some of it without telling you all of it," she cried with frustration. "If I do that, you'll figure out who I am. After all of the sacrifices I've made to keep our identities safe-"

"I don’t want you making sacrifices!" Chat broke in heatedly, but Marinette kept talking over him.

"I refuse to ruin it now. They're my problems, not Ladybug's. Next fight, I'll make sure to be more focused," she promised. Her earrings beeped again. "I've got to go." Despair crept into her voice despite her best efforts.

Frustration burned in his eyes, but he didn’t bother voicing it further. Chat just stared at her. Then his lips pulled down into a frown. Carefully reaching out, he pulled her into a hug.

Despite her words about leaving, she didn't pull away. In his arms, for the first time in too long, she felt protected. Tears burned her eyes. She clutched convulsively at his back and buried her face in his chest.

"Oh my Lady, who has hurt you?" he crooned with a hint of violence, curving over her protectively and rubbing his chin across her head soothingly.

"I really shouldn't say, Chat. Please stop asking me before I give in," she begged from the circle of his arms. She dropped her hand to her sides so they’d stop clutching at him traitorously.

She could feel him swallow hard, strangling down the words on his tongue. Ladybug’s earring beeped its last warning. Chat placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. Despite the tension singing through his body, he gently released her and stepped back. Grateful for his respecting her choices, she turned to swing away, but his voice stopped her one last time.

"If this isn't a Ladybug problem, then the problem belongs to the woman behind the mask. I know she has friends. She's too special not to. If you won’t tell me, then talk to one of them about this. Please," he begged.

"But it’s not-" she began to refuse stubbornly, but Chat cut her off.

"No buts. I won't stop worrying unless you promise to talk to one of your friends. If I worry too much, I'll get sick. Just because you get sick of this cat's puns doesn't mean you want to see this cat sick. Please, my lady? Pretty please? For me?"

Looking at his earnest green eyes, she gave in. He was right, she needed help. This morning had proven that. "Alright, I promise."

Then she flicked out her yoyo and spun away into the sky. After arching over two buildings, she dropped down into a deserted alleyway just in time. Her transformation released with a pop of sparkles, leaving behind plain old messed up Marinette.

Leaning a hand against the wall, she felt a jolt of pain. Confused, Marinette looked down. Her Lucky Charm should have healed all her injuries from the fight. Nevertheless, she had dark red cuts along the backs and knuckles of her fingers. Thinking back, she realized that she must've cut herself when the mug shattered on Francois's face.

Dread filled her stomach as she realized that she didn't know how to talk to anyone about this. She should be in school right now, but she didn't even have her book bag. All her friends were busy in class.

Rubbing hard at her face, she decided to go and sit in the park until she figured out what to do. She found a bench in a patch of sunlight and collapsed onto it. Distantly she noticed the icy metal sucking warmth from her legs, but she couldn’t bring herself to do more than zip up her flimsy jacket. Maybe the sun would thaw her legs if they froze.

Slowly pulling her phone out, she took a quick breath and then swiped the screen. She had a dozen missed phone calls and texts. She decided to check Alya's messages first. Maybe it would give her the courage to call Alya back and ask to talk, to finally share her burden just a little bit.

_Alya had liked Francois, but she would still take Marinette's side, wouldn't she? Didn't she have to, as her best friend? Or would she tell Marinette that she’d screwed up, that she really had brought this on herself or done something to lead Francois on?_

Before she could get too twisted up, a short message from Alya started playing. It reminded her to bring her history homework for first period. Wiggling her cold fingers, she then checked her texts. Alya's first few notes nagged at her to wake up and get to school. Then there were the usual demands of _'Where are you_?!' The final text was a reminder that Alya wouldn't be around after lunch because she had a fieldtrip with her journalism class and that none of the teachers believed the sick pet excuse anymore.

Biting her lip, Marinette tried calling Alya, suddenly desperate for her best friend's advice and support, but the call went straight to voicemail. She left a message. "Um, hi, Alya. Sorry for skipping out on you this morning." She wanted to say something else, make an excuse, actually explain, but she couldn't leave the truth on a voicemail, not even the truth that left out the Ladybug parts. "Have fun on your fieldtrip. Talk to you later," she finished lamely.

_Did that count as keeping her promise to Chat?_ Technically she'd talked to a friend, though only to her voicemail and not about her problems. Turning her phone to silent, she was about to put it away when it vibrated in her hand with an incoming phone call. Her heart leapt with hope, only to smash at her feet as she saw the caller ID. Without conscious volition, her thumb rejected the incoming phone call from the bakery.

_What had she just done? Had she lost her one chance to explain her side of things?_ The blood drained from her face. _What should she do now?_ Fingers shaking, she slid the phone back into her pocket. Dropping her head into her hands, she ran her fingers through her hair, roughly ripping out her pigtails. Beneath the veil of her hair she pressed her hands hard against her eyes and tried to hold back her hopeless tears.

"Marinette?" asked a voice full of surprise and concern. "It’s much too cold for pajama pants. Is everything alright?"

Lifting her head, she saw Adrien standing at the end of the bench. She expected him next to demand an explanation for why she'd never shown up for school, but instead he stood silent as the air between them grew thick and time seemed to slow. He lifted his hand to his head as if trying to grasp at escaping thoughts, but then dropped it back to his side as if no longer bothered. Time resumed its normal pace.

Tilting his head, he softly asked, "May I sit down?"

Wiping her clammy palms down her thighs, she tried to pull herself together. It took her a moment to process his words. "Sure." However, she couldn't meet his eyes. _Of all people, why did it have to be Adrien Agreste that found her?_

Sticking his hands in his coat pockets, he slumped down on the bench and stared out across the park. "I think everyone is just having one of those days," he mused.

"What do you mean?" she asked, more to keep the conversation going than because she actually felt curious. She didn't have the energy for curious. All of her strength was focused on not breaking down into a hysterical puddle at poor Adrien’s feet.

"You know, one of those terrible, horrible, you regret getting out of bed sort of days. It seems to be going around today.” His voice became soft, almost despairing as he whispered, “I can't do much for her, no matter how hard I’ve tried,” then he shook himself and gave her a self-deprecating half-smile, “but if you want, Marinette, I can at least listen to you. That’s what friends do, right?"

Nibbling on her lip, she couldn’t find the strength to stay strong anymore. Not in the face of Adrien’s concern. Dropping her face so her tangled hair veiled her expression, she quietly asked, “Has anyone ever… touched you when you didn’t want to be touched?”

It sounded stupid when said out loud. Things like that didn’t happen to guys. _What was she thinking?_

Marinette was surprised when Adrien blew out a breath of air and laughed sardonically. It hadn’t seemed like a funny question. “Now that is a much more complex answer than you’d expect, but to give you a short answer, yes.”

At her look of shock and confusion, he shrugged and shifted on the bench. “Okay, perhaps that was too short. I’ll tell you my story and then maybe you’ll feel comfortable sharing yours.”

For a moment, his eyes gleamed vengefully as he looked at her. Then he blinked and it disappeared into calm focus. “My father trained me to be a model from a young age. When you model, there are always people adjusting your clothes, putting on your makeup, and styling your hair. The photographer tells you how to stand or move, and if there’s an art director, they might even grab you and bend your body into the shape they want. It’s part of the job, so I don’t have any choice about it. Most of the time, the touches are impersonal and professional. I mostly got used to it. However, sometimes there are people in the industry who use their position to be inappropriate, especially when no one else is looking. People who take advantage can hide anywhere.”

His fists clenched, though his face remained an even mask. “I guess I learned to never really say anything either way. No one wanted to hear it. There was one guy in particular that I hated. Almost every model at Gabriel photoshoots had to work with this one abusive fitter, yet it took years and years to get anyone to listen long enough to get him fired, and even then they almost decided to just censure him instead. It may sound mean, but I really hope he’s broke, unemployed, and at least half as miserable as he made all of us feel for all those years.”

“I’m so sorry,” Marinette said softly.

Brow crinkled, Adrien looked off into the distance. “Being a model means having others not respect your privacy. A bodyguard helps, but can only do so much at the end of the day, and usually not enough. Fans of my modeling pictures will grab me on the street, hugging and groping me as if my body is theirs to touch as they please. I have to preserve the positive image of my father’s brand, so I’m not allowed to react badly.

“I mean, you’ve seen it happen. Even Chloe still grabs me all the time, hugging my arm and kissing my face. I know she’s just lonely and scared deep down inside. She was my only friend for a long time. I can’t forget that and I don’t want to hurt her, but asking her to stop doesn’t work.” His lips quirked, “She never listens to anything she doesn’t want to hear. Most people in my life don’t.”

“Does that mean you don’t like being touched? Or that you just don’t care anymore?” Marinette asked, curious and sympathetic despite her intention to not get drawn in to the conversation.

Adrien looked uncomfortable. “I try not to think about it. The truth is, I just don’t know what to say with things like that. People touch me all the time, but I guess it’s a pretty small number of people who I’d actually want to be touched by. Most of the time, I just endure it. My father loves and wants to protect me, but he’s also chosen to make my body, my image, into public property. It’s hard to pull back from that and say, ‘don’t touch me,’ when it’s unlikely anyone would listen, believe me, or even care. I guess I’ve tried to force myself not to care instead.”

Staring down at his hands clasped loosely between his knees, he added, “Pretty pathetic, huh?”

“Not at all,” she denied. “You deserve better, Adrien. It makes me want to hit people,” Marinette confessed without thinking. Then she turned red and began roughly picking at the knots in her hair with her fingers.

Adrien gave her a sideways smile. “Hit which people?”

“The ones touching you inappropriately!” she said, surprising herself with her fierceness. “And- and,” at that point, she found her voice going quiet and small as she tangled her fingers in her hair and sent him a cautious look through the strands, “the one touching me.”

The smile wiped clean off his face, leaving behind something dangerous and wild in his green eyes. She started to shrink back, but then realized that the anger wasn’t directed at her. A muscle ticked in his jaw. Then Adrien blinked, shading his eyes with long, golden eyelashes as he looked away. When his gaze swung back, his expression once more held nothing but kindness and concern. “Who’s touching you, Marinette?” he asked gently.

Ashamed, she looked away as tears pricked her eyes. “Maybe I should harder try not to care, too.”

“That’s stupid,” he swiftly countered, “and I should know since I was the one who said it. Perhaps I’ve been a coward, but I can change. I like your plan of hitting people better. I wish I would have hit Walter before he got fired. I bet it’s much more satisfying.”

Marinette felt her lips tilting up at the corners. “It was… but in the end, I don’t think it solved anything.” Her mouth collapsed back into a frown. She had to tighten her lips to keep them from quivering.

“Tell me what happened, Marinette,” he cajoled. “Please? Pretty please? For me?”

Adrien’s words, his very tone of voice, reminded her so strongly of Chat and her promise to find a friend to talk to that she had to wrap her arms around her chest and squeeze to keep from breaking apart. “What if you don’t believe me?” she asked quietly. What if she’d acted irrationally and overemotionally like everyone at home had been saying?

“I will,” Adrien answered steadily.

“But what if you don’t? What if I was wrong to hit him?” she whispered, unable to stop the tears dripping down her cheeks.

“Then I’ll help you make it right, but Marinette, I’m your friend. You’re not alone. Believe in me like I believe in you. Please, talk to me,” he coaxed, holding out his hand beseechingly.

Blowing out a quivering breath, she reached out and took his hand, clasping it tightly on the bench between them.

“You’re freezing,” he fretted, unwinding a well-worn, familiar blue scarf from around his neck and placing it on hers. It smelled like him, slightly spicy with a hint of masculine musk. Slowly she warmed.

With the sun overhead and Adrien by her side, she found the strength to loose her tongue. Looking into the blue sky, she let her eyes go unfocused as she told him briefly about her dad’s cousin Francois: how he started out with uncomfortable flirting and casual touches, how he’d walked in on her and made it into her fault with her parents, the escalation of his attentions, always worse when no one else was around, and finally how he’d trapped her in the kitchen that morning, so she’d snapped and hit him into the counter, knocking him unconscious. Marinette kept the details vague, but it was enough to give Adrien a picture of what she’d been living with.

“Is that how you got these cuts on your fingers?” Adrien asked evenly as he gently turned her hand and placed it on his lap, obviously suppressing strong emotions.

“Yeah,” she answered softly, wiping her running nose with her free hand. Adrien reached inside his coat, pulled out a handkerchief, and passed it over. Marinette wiped off her face and then scrunched it fretfully in her fingers.

“Then what happened? How did you end up here?” he prompted carefully.

Because Marinette couldn’t tell him about Ladybug, she lied, though it hurt to do it to him just now. “I didn’t know what to do next, so I just left him on the floor and got out. I didn’t even tell my parents. I just ran until I ended up here in the park.”

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he lifted up her hand to take a closer look, his face full of protective anger though his voice still sounded calm and controlled, as if he was talking to a horse that might spook at any moment. Marinette realized that she was the horse, and felt a spurt of dark humor.

“Just that and some bruises,” she answered vaguely. “He’s probably awake by now and telling tales, just like before. My parents probably think I hit him with no provocation and then ran away to avoid the punishment. For all I know, he’s planning on leaving the bakery in the lurch and suing us for assault.”

Blood draining from her face, she turned to Adrien, “What will I do if they put me in prison? I can’t help out Pari- I mean, my parents’ bakery if I’m in jail! Wait, what if my parents lose the bakery over this? What have I done?” She felt herself begin to hyperventilate.

“Marinette,” Adrien released her hand to cup her face in his cool fingers. “Marinette! Calm down and breathe,” he ordered. “You defended yourself against a man three times your size. None of this is your fault. If he tries anything, the police will see right through him and believe you.”

“But my parents don’t believe me,” she moaned, dejected.

“I do,” he promised, green eyes flashing fiercely. Then he laid a protective arm across her shoulders and tucked her against the curve of his chest. “Is it okay that I’m touching you like this?” he asked carefully.

Marinette curled her legs up onto the bench and burrowed into his side. It felt wonderful to have someone on her side to help carry the burden, to not be alone with this anymore. “Yeah, this is fine.” Any other day and she’d be over the moon to be snuggling up with Adrien, her on-again, off-again, on-again crush. Today, however, she felt too drained to feel anything but safe and cared for.

“Have you told your parents everything you just told me?” Adrien asked with sudden keenness.

“Well, no, but before I could explain, he’d either walk into the room or else they’d cut me off,” she explained miserably.

“I’m sorry. Would Alya help? Should I call her to come over?” he asked considerately.

“I haven’t told her,” Marinette confessed. “She likes Francois. Besides, she’s really busy right now. We always have too much else to talk about or else my call goes right to voicemail. I tried her earlier, but she didn’t pick up because there’s a fieldtrip today.”

Rubbing her forehead, she couldn’t keep her lips from twisting in disgust. “I’m sorry I’m useless and stupid. I hate feeling so out of control. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I think it takes a lot of bravery to stand up to someone who’s both manipulative and abusive. You fought back and protected yourself. You got yourself out of a bad situation. You are as you’ve always been, Marinette: amazing.” Adrien’s voice rang with conviction, filling her heart with a cleansing wave. He made her feel brighter and stronger.

Then Adrien continued, “I’m so sorry this happened to you, but if anything, I only respect you more. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. Thank you for letting me help you.” He rubbed her arm gently and looked off into the trees. “It hurts to have a friend in pain and not be allowed to help. I hate feeling useless too. Believe me, you’re doing me a favor by actually letting me help this time.”

“Well,” she said thickly, “thank you for listening.”

“Anytime,” he squeezed her gently against his side. Then they sat together in silence for a few minutes.  Winter sunlight gleamed across the wet leaves scattered on the ground. As shadows receded beneath the afternoon sun, the frost melted into the brown grass and the pavement dried.

Marinette appreciated that all of Adrien’s touches were gentle and comforting. She knew she could break away at any time and he’d let her. The care he took in touching her reminded her all over again why she liked him so much.

“I have some ideas about how to handle this, but what do you want to do, Marinette?” Adrien finally asked. “I don’t want to take your choices away from you.”

“Honestly? I don’t know. Part of me wants to go find him and hit him a few more times,” she felt vengeful agreement rumble through Adrien’s chest. “Another part of me wants to hide under a bed and see how long I can go before I have to talk to anyone back home.”

“Alright,” he said simply.

Marinette pulled back a few inches to look up into his face. “What do you mean by _alright_?”

“I mean, alright, I’ll back you up, whatever you want to do,” he explained, meeting her eyes intently. “If you want to beat him up, I’ll hold your purse while you attack and be your alibi for the police. I’m also willing to subdue him in a chokehold while you tap dance on his groin, though I’d ask to be allowed a few shots of my own, maybe some dismemberment, since he obviously deserves it and it would make me feel much better. After all, I was thinking about following your example and hitting people who touch inappropriately, remember?”

Adrien winked charmingly, seemingly undisturbed by his violent suggestion, before continuing. “If, on the other hand, you want to hide, I’ll sneak you into my house and make us a pillow fort with blankets. I’ve seen pictures of them on TV shows. They don’t look that difficult to make. We can hide under it together and eat gourmet food made by my personal chef, maybe play some video games to see if I’ve gotten any closer at matching your high scores. I apologize in advance if room smells like stinky cheese; I’m a teenaged boy with messy friends.”

Surprised, Marinette found herself actually laughing. “Thank you, Adrien. You’re being ridiculous and somehow endearingly bloodthirsty, but thank you. Also, you might want to refuse touches by stepping back with a firm, ‘No,’ before graduating to hitting, as I don’t want you to end up in prison either, but I appreciate the thought.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiled enchantingly, “and I’m quite serious about all of it. However, before you decide, can I suggest something?”

“I’m wavering between tap dancing and pillow forts, so you might as well,” she invited.

Squeezing her shoulder gently, he said, “I think we should try calling your parents and letting them know you’re safe.”

“But, what if,” she tensed. Adrien lightly laid a finger across her lips, stilling her protest. Then he dropped his hand.

“Hear me out,” he asked. “I can make the phone call if you want. I can even ask just your mother to come since she’s not related to him. We can get her to meet us here, on neutral ground. Then we can explain what really happened.”

“We?” Marinette asked tentatively.

“I’m not leaving you alone with this,” Adrien said flatly. Then he shrugged and met her eyes, “Not unless you tell me who to call and come sit with you instead. I’m still willing to call Alya if you think it will help, but until this is resolved, you need a friend by your side. Right now, that friend is me. I won’t let you get hurt again, not if I can help it.”

Marinette had to bite her lip to get it to stop trembling as emotion surged through her. She had to look away to catch her breath. No one had protected her in a long time. Ladybug was the protector on the streets of Paris. Chat was her partner, her shield from attacks, but she protected him too and it was all wrapped up with their duty as wielders of Miraculouses. At school, Marinette tried to stick up for her classmates, and she knew Alya had her back, but while Alya would stand up with her side by side, she didn't need to stand in front of Marinette.  Her parents loved her, but they hadn't seen the need or had the ability to protect her from much in a long time.

She didn't have to give anything Adrien. He didn’t owe her. Yet he wanted to protect her because he was good and he thought she deserved it. She hadn't realized how much she'd needed someone to stand up for her. Marinette wasn't a damsel in distress waiting in her tower for a knight to rescue her. However, that didn't mean she didn't want someone to care enough to climb a tower for her.

Marinette knew Chat Noir would save her if he could, would protect her with every breath in his body, but that was the problem. To protect her, Chat would take a knife to the back, would let himself be broken to spare her a bruise. He thought of himself as a shield, as disposable, but he wasn't. It’s one of the reasons she’d decided to keep the identity spell. She hated when Chat got hurt, hated it especially when he got hurt protecting her from mistakes, from her being too slow, distracted, and not good enough.

When Chat protected her, it meant that he'd made himself vulnerable to keep her safe. It meant that he might get hurt instead. In battle, she'd learned to accept it and tried to protect him in turn, but sometimes guilt swamped her.

Even if she'd told Alya about Francois, things might have just gotten worse. Either Alya would have said Marinette was blowing things out of proportion, which would have gouged her fragile emotions bloody, or else she would have believed her. Alya's sense of justice wouldn't have let her keep silent. She'd have gotten so enraged that she'd have attacked Francois herself when Marinette wasn't around, but Alya had no defensive training. He could have hurt her and then Marinette would have mentally snapped and ended up breaking every bone in his body and going to prison for sure while Paris fell to Hawk Moth.

Despite constantly fighting super villains across Paris for approximately three years, Marinette wasn't a violent girl. She liked competition. She believed in justice and duty. To protect people, she had to be strong. However, she didn't like hurting people.

Yet she'd never wanted to hurt someone the way she wanted to hurt Francois. Not even Chloe, the person she detested most in the world after Hawk Moth himself, had evoked such dark and violent feelings in her heart. Francois made her feel like a stranger to herself. It scared her.

But for the first time in a long time, Adrien had made her feel safe. With Adrien, she could be protected without fearing that he'd get hurt in the process. He was like the anti-Akuma. Despite the darkness in her heart, he'd made her laugh. Adrien felt like a sunny clearing in the dark woods of her life, somewhere to stop and rest, safe and warm for just a little while before plunging back into the cold forest.

Marinette trusted him. She could be weak for just a little while, let him take the lead, and not have to worry about keeping him safe too. Marinette hadn't realized how much she'd needed to lean on someone and be allowed to close her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered, forcing the words out through the ache in her throat.

Pressing her lips together, she pulled out her mobile. Opening her favorites, she scrolled down to her mother's smiling face. Finger hovering over the image, she froze.

Her mother wouldn't be smiling right now. She'd be angry and worried. Would she even let Marinette get a word in before she started yelling? Or just as bad, would she voice her disappointment and then turn the phone over to her father for an angry scolding? Marinette didn't want to be yelled at right now. She felt too fragile. The thought of their anger scared her, made her chest feel tight and her breath go shallow. She felt so alone.

"You aren't alone," Adrien said, as if reading her mind. "I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me to. Whatever you need, please, let me help you. "

Nodding her head against the burn behind her eyes, Marinette wordlessly passed the phone to him. She tried to muster a grateful smile, but couldn't do more than twitch against the terror rising in her stomach.

"You're very brave," he said, ignoring her look of disbelief as he tapped her mother's face and then held the phone up to his ear.

It only rang once before her mother picked up. Marinette heard her mother cry out her name and begin demanding explanations. Cowardice had her shuffling back to the edge of the bench. She didn't want to hear the anger and disappointment in her mother's voice. Even at a distance, she feared that it would break her.

"Excuse me," Adrien interrupted with polite but cool reservation, "but this isn't Marinette. This is her friend, Adrien. She's safe with me right now." He paused to listen to her mother's reply. Then spoke again. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to talk to me for now. I-," he stopped again as he was cutoff. A flare of temper sparked in his green eyes.

Lips firm, he said, "You may, of course, do whatever you think is best, though perhaps you'd like to get both sides of the story before jumping to conclusions.... No. I'm sorry, but we're not prepared to discuss that over the phone. If you're willing to come alone- yes, I mean just you, Mrs. Dupain-Cheng... yes... no, that's.... No, absolutely not... yes, I said she was fine. No, we're not at the hospital, please calm down.... Alright, thank you." Sighing softly, he listened in silence for moment. Then he continued, "Please, your daughter just wants to talk to you, if you are willing to listen.... Thank you.... No, it's fine. Alright, we're at the park by the school…. Yes, we'll see you in a few minutes. Thank you, ma'am. Goodbye."

Adrien dropped the phone from his ear and turned it off. "She's coming over right now," he said, handing back the phone.

"Okay," Marinette breathed out queasily, sliding the phone back into her jacket pocket. She felt Tikki's small hand snag her finger for a brief hug and reminder of support. The familiar smear of cookie crumbs left behind on her skin made her racing pulse start to steady. Guiltily, Marinette realized that she'd been too distracted to feed Tikki after the battle. Thank goodness she'd helped herself to the cookie stash in her pocket. Dear Tikki wouldn't hold a grudge, but Marinette usually tried to be more considerate.

"It's going to be alright," Adrien said bracingly.

Leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, she dropped her head into her hands. "Sure," she replied unconvincingly. Threading her fingers into her hair, she tugged anxiously and settled in to wait.

"Feathers," Adrien blurted out after several moments of increasingly tense silence.

Marinette looked up with confusion.

"And velvet," he continued, still making no sense.

She couldn't help asking, "What are you talking about?"

"The centerfold in _Vogue Italia_ with the dress made of feathers and velvet. Have you seen it?" he asked awkwardly.

Straightening up slowly, Marinette cast her mind back. "I haven't gotten through the entire issue yet, but I saw the cover. The yellow dress?"

"Yes, the fuzzy canary one," Adrien confirmed, turning on the bench to more fully face her. "What did you think of it?"

"Well, it certainly makes a statement," she answered slowly, "but a cursory look didn't really inspire me to jump ahead to the full spread." Leaning forward as if sharing a dirty secret, she confided, "To be honest, I didn't really like it. I mean, the craftsmanship is unmistakable, but the design teetered on the edge of ugly stunning without tipping over to come full circle back to stunning beautiful."

Tipping his head back, Adrien laughed. "Yes, that's it exactly. It felt like too much texture and volume for such a petite model. I personally found it rather hideous." He gave her a conspiratorial look that crinkled the edges of his opal green eyes delightfully.

"That's a good point," Marinette said, suddenly breathless for an entirely different reason than her problems. "I don't tend to like the combination of feathers and velvet, but I could see it working better in a darker color palate or on a different model. Maybe even a man."

Adrien hummed and tilted his head. "Now you have me curious. What would you design for a man using feathers and velvet?"

Looking out at the grass, Marinette let her eyes go unfocused. "Maybe for a gothic themed runway show...? I'd dress him in a plum colored velvet suit jacket with iridescent black or dark red feathered lapels, no shirt, matte black pants with plum piping, matching necktie, maybe a top hat covered in the same feathers...." she trailed off as she played with colors and textures in her mind.

"What about a cane?" Adrien interrupted her musings.

"Hmm?" she focused and looked over.

"A cane," he repeated firmly. "A good top hat needs a matching cane or baton."

A stray thought made her want to smile. "Is the reverse true? Does a baton need a top hat? Because if so, maybe someone should talk to Chat Noir about that."

Adrien blinked in surprise for a moment before slapping his hand over his mouth to cover a snort of laughter. "Definitely not," he finally replied. "It would cover his cat ears! What's Chat Noir without the ears? Not to mention that the hat would constantly be falling off and getting in the way during battles. Ladybug would never let him live it down. She'd mock him mercilessly."

Snorting, Marinette had to agree. If Chat tried to wear a hat during their battles, she really would tease him. "Very true, I guess we'll have to leave him as is. It would be a shame to cover his cute kitty cat ears."

"You think he's cute?" Adrien asked, pink tinting his cheeks for some reason.

"I said his ears are cute," she defended automatically.

"Then what would you change?" Adrien pressed.

Marinette hesitated. She didn't know how she'd gotten on this topic with Adrien of all people, but... she guessed it wouldn't hurt anything to be honest with him. It wasn't like her words would get back to Chat, or that he'd know it came from Ladybug even if it did. After all, Adrien and Chat were completely different, pushed a soft voice in her mind.

"Nothing," she let herself admit as she looked away and let her lips tug up fondly. "I wouldn't change anything about that tomcat. He's pretty great." When she looked back, Adrien's face had turned completely red. Before she could ask him why, they were interrupted.

"Marinette!" she heard her mother call. Looking up, she saw her mother practically running across the muddy grass towards their bench. Her open coat flapped in her wake. Marinette gulped and stood up. She went towards her mother and quickly found herself engulfed in a ferocious hug. Tears surged up and clogged her throat.

"Oh sweetheart, you had me so worried!" her mother scolded breathlessly against her shoulder as she clutched Marinette tightly to her. Then she pulled back. "Are you really alright?" she demanded, scanning up and down her daughter's body looking for injuries. "And why are you wearing only your jacket over pajamas out in public?"

Marinette felt a moment of extreme embarrassment as she realized she'd been talking to Adrien all this time wearing only pajamas. She didn't even have a bra on! Thank goodness for her jacket.

"Well?" her mother demanded.

Opening and closing her mouth, Marinette didn't know where to start. "You want to talk about my pajamas?" she finally deflected.

Taking a deep breath, her mother stepped back and gestured to the bench where Adrien was still sitting, unobtrusively. "I want to talk about what happened this morning, but we can start wherever you need to. If that's pajamas, then fine," her mother said, the stress lines on her face heavy and pronounced. Her face looked pale, emphasizing the two spots of color high on her cheeks from the exertion of running to the park.

Limbs suddenly trembling, Marinette shuffled back and dropped to a seat on the bench next to Adrien. Panic started to slosh in her belly again. Adrien shifted subtly, pressing their legs together, but otherwise didn't interfere.

After a beat of silence, her mother blew out a breath. She glanced consideringly at the small edge of the bench next to Marinette. Then she took two careful steps forward before sliding down to kneel on the barely dry ground in front of them. Marinette twitched, wanting to catch her mother before she got muddy and pull her up onto the bench, but not being quite brave enough.

Her mother buttoned her coat, her only concession to the winter chill, and set her hands carefully on her knees. Then she looked up patiently, somehow managing to hide almost all of her desperation and stress. "Perhaps I've been too busy talking lately to give your words the attention they needed. I am ready to listen now, my daughter. Please," she invited with quiet dignity.

Pressing her leg back against the comforting warmth of Adrien, Marinette opened her mouth and forced herself to begin. Looking down, she threaded her fingers together on her lap until the knuckles went white. She didn't want to see their faces as she talked. She wished Adrien didn't have to hear all of the shameful details that she’d glossed over the first time, but without his protective support, she didn't think she'd be able to tell her mother any of it.

When Marinette explained how Francois had broken into the locked bathroom during her shower and put his hand through the curtain, Adrien jerked and her mother made a noise, but neither interrupted her. She didn't let herself stop. It felt like a dam had burst. She had to keep talking. If she stopped, the river would run dry and she wouldn't have the energy to start again. She just wanted to get all of it out now, get out all of the ugliness so she could maybe one day feel clean again.

Finally she got to the end. Her voice felt raw from the telling. "After he grabbed my- my br-breast,” she couldn’t help but stumble over her words as she remembered the feeling of violation. “I started fighting back. I got away long enough to hit him with my mug in the face. He fell and hit his head on the counter. I kicked him, but he didn’t get up. Then I grabbed my jacket and ran out. Eventually Adrien saw me in the park and convinced me to call you. I'm sure Francois has already told you a story that makes it all my fault, but I'm telling you the truth. He was the one who attacked me. I was just defending myself. I never flirted with him or anything. I promise I didn’t. Please believe me. Please."

Knuckling away the tears from her swollen eyes with her scabbed over knuckles, Marinette finally got up the courage to look at her mother, only to see her collapsed forward over her legs, face wet with tears and hands pressed over her mouth to muffle her sobs. Seeing her mother like that made Marinette's lower lip tremble. "Momma?" she whispered in a young voice, unable to contain herself.

"Oh, my baby," her mother opened her arms and surged up, meeting Marinette halfway as Marinette flung herself off the bench and into her arms with a sob. "Of course I believe you. I'm so sorry, baby. So sorry." Stroking her hair away from her damp cheeks, her mother pressed a kiss to her brow and then both cheeks. "I love you so much, more than anything. He'll never touch you again, I promise. You're safe now. I've got you, you're safe." Curling up into her mother like she hadn't since childhood, Marinette lost herself in a cathartic storm of weeping. She felt like she shouldn’t have any tears left by this point, but her body kept proving her wrong.

"I'll be right back," she distantly heard Adrien say.

When her tears finally slowed, she realized her mother's legs must be either frozen from the cold ground or dead asleep from her weight by now. Shifting to the side, she wrapped her arm around her mother's waist and laid her head on her shoulder. “Thank you,” she quietly told her mother’s chin, not wanting to move.

A package of tissues appeared in front of them with a rustle. Looking up, she saw Adrien’s gentle smile. After they each took several tissues and mopped off their faces, he opened up the bag in his hand and pulled out bottles of water. "Crying always makes me thirsty," he explained sheepishly as he handed them over.

"Thank you, Adrien," her mother said sincerely. “That’s very thoughtful.”

Feeling wrung out but better than she had in months, Marinette downed half the bottle in a series of gulps. Then she sighed and looked up. "What now?"

Her mother squeezed her shoulder and got them both up and onto the bench. "Now I go and deal with this. I don't think you need to be there, my dear. I don't want you to have to see him ever again, unless you want to?"

"No," Marinette shook her head sharply.

"Then why don't you go and stay with a friend while I get rid of him. Maybe Adrien can continue to keep you company?" Her mother sent him a questioning look.

"I would be happy to keep Marinette company," Adrien said, "but I don't feel comfortable sending you back alone to confront him, Madam Cheng."

Marinette straightened up with a frown. "He's right."

"Nonsense," her mother waved away their words. "I'm the adult here and I won't be alone. My husband should be there too."

"But what if he’s not? Besides, his arm isn't fully healed yet, even if the cast did just come off," Marinette fretted.

"Let's try Alya again," Adrien suggested. "Marinette can stay with her and I'll escort you back home."

Although her eyes felt heavy and swollen, the rest of her felt strangely light. She wanted to close her eyes and not wake up for a week. Dialing Alya's number, she felt relief when her friend picked up after two rings.

"Hey, what's up, girlfriend?" Alya asked in a distracted tone of voice. “I just got done with the fieldtrip.”

Her tongue felt thick. "Um, can I stay at your place for a few hours?"

"What's wrong," Alya demanded, now completely focused.

"I don't want to explain it over the phone, but my mom and Adrien don't want me at home while they take care of it. Can I stay with you?" her voice went small. She just felt so done, so tired.

"It? Your mom _and_ Adrien? No, never mind," Alya cut off her own barrage of questions, took a quick breath, and then said with barely concealed panic, "Of course you can stay here, sweetie. Whatever you need. Can you make it on your own or do you want me to meet you somewhere?"

"I'll have them drop me off at your place, if that’s okay? We're just at the park. Is ten minutes too soon?" Marinette asked.

"No, that's fine. I'll be waiting for you there. See you soon," Alya promised.

"Thanks," Marinette replied with exhaustion, then ended the call.

Holding her mother's arm on one side and walking in Adrien's shadow on the other, she let her mind go blank and trusted them to get her there safely. It seemed like she'd barely blinked and they were knocking on Alya's door. Adrien's knuckles only rapped once before the door swung open to reveal a wild-eyed Alya with her coat still on one arm and her mother.

Mrs. Césaire stood behind Alya still dressed in her head chef’s coat splattered with yellow sauce on one sleeve. She looked slightly frazzled, as if she’d rushed home from work. Marinette hoped it hadn’t been for her sake. She hated being an inconvenience.

Alya dropped her coat on the floor, opened her arms, and stepped forward. "Oh Marinette, what happened? What's going on?" Stepping forward into her friend's embrace, Marinette began crying silently. _Again_. Poor Adrien’s light blue scarf around her neck was soaked with tears and snot. She was disgusting. It frustrated her to be such a watering pot, which just made her cry harder.

Taking a painful little breath, Marinette's mother spoke up. "Thank you so much for letting Marinette stay. We have a family emergency."

"She can stay as long as she needs to, Sabine," Alya's mother insisted. "Is everything alright? Can we help?"

Laying her head flat on her friend’s shoulder, Marinette tried to stop crying and pay attention.

Her mother held herself very stiffly, as if the wrong move might cause her to shatter. "No, but thank you. Please keep this private, but we just found out that," her words stumbled, "that my husband's cousin, who's been staying with us to help out with the bakery, has been sexually harassing Marinette." Alya dark cheeks went several shades lighter as she gasped in shock. "He attacked her this morning and when Marinette defended herself and ran away, he ended up needing stitches. We didn't understand then, but now that I do, I have to go and deal with- with everything. Can I trust you to keep Marinette safe until he’s dealt with?"

"Of course," Alya's mother answered firmly. "I'm so sorry. She's welcome to stay here as long as she needs to. The girls can have a sleepover until things get worked out."

"Thank you," Sabine answered gravely.

Though a haze, Marinette said goodbye to her mother and Adrien. Then Alya took her back to her bedroom. She turned on some gentle music and they curled up together on the bed until Marinette fell asleep.

When Marinette woke up, it looked dark outside. Alya lounged by her side, reading something on her phone. A tray of food sat on the nightstand. When Alya saw her open eyes, she immediately lowered her phone and smiled. "Welcome back, sleepyhead. Are you up for some gourmet food from Chef Césaire?"

"Sure, thanks," Marinette said with a wan smile. While Alya was distracted grabbing napkins, she slipped a cookie to Tikki. Thinking of someone besides herself for a moment gave her the momentum to sit up.

In the space of a minute, Marinette downed three and a half chocolate chunk cookies. However, after eating a single grape and only part of a triangular cucumber and turkey sandwich, she felt her stomach go tight, rebelling against another bite as thoughts of the bakery suddenly surged nauseatingly. She wiped her mouth and then pushed the tray away. _What was happening at her house right now?_ Not knowing made her anxiety rattle around in her belly like a living thing.

"Are you alright?" Alya asked sympathetically after crunching through a mouthful of cucumber.

Marinette huffed humorlessly. "No."

"Wanna talk about it?" Alya tilted her head to the side and reached out to squeeze Marinette's hand.

Exhaling shakily, Marinette explained everything. She felt achy and sick. When her arm brushed against her chest, it felt painfully bruised from Francois’s pinch. She didn't want to think too deeply about. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, Alya. I just felt so stupid and lost. You said you liked him and I was afraid you'd take his side and say I was taking things too seriously. Plus you've been so busy and stressed. I have tried telling you a few times, but I either chickened out or got sent to voice mail. Besides, I didn't want to worry you even if you did believe me. I thought I could take care of it myself until he left."

"Oh, Marinette," Alya wiped away her tears. Used tissues lay crumpled around their legs like a meadow of dandelions gone to seed. "You're my best friend. I'll always take your side. I'm so sorry this happened to you. I don’t know what’s going on in the world lately, what with increasingly violent super villains, surging racial and religious prejudice, and now this. Isn't graduation supposed to be moving on to something better? Because the older we get, the darker the world feels like it’s getting.” She scowled into the distance.

“I know what you mean, but… at least there are still good people out there, people like you and Adrien.” Marinette gave her friend a small but grateful smile.

Alya gave up her scowl to smile back. “Well, I’m _your_ good person, so don’t you forget it again. I'm here for you and I have all sorts of ideas to help you out no matter how things go at your house with that man and your parents. You’re not alone. Okay?" Alya gave her a sideways hug.

"Okay," Marinette said, trying to make herself truly believe it and relax.

Alya nodded firmly. "Good, so now that we have that covered, let's do something cathartic. Funny movie marathon or violent video game?"

Not even having to think about it, Marinette pointed. "Violent video game. Please."

Alya groaned. “Fine, but you have to let me win sometimes.”

“If you want to win, you’ll have to earn it,” Marinette teased with an echo of their usual video game smack talk.

Sometime later, Alya's mother knocked on the door. They paused the game and looked up. "Marinette, your mother called. She asked if you'd be okay staying the night here with Alya. If not, she can come and pick you up."

"No, that's fine," Marinette said quietly. The muscles up and down her back tensed. "But what happened?"

Leaning against the doorframe, Mrs. Césaire spoke gently. "We're happy to have you for however long you want to stay, Marinette. As for your cousin Francois, you don’t have to worry about him anymore. They've arrested him."

Marinette jerked in shock. “Didn’t the police have to take my statement first or something?”

Mrs. Césaire’s mouth tightened. "There's no easy way to say this. Your father called his family for a conference to discuss your cousin's harassment and it came to light that you weren't the first person he's attacked. Tragically, it seems he’s molested at least two other young girls in the extended family. He moved to Paris so abruptly to avoid discovery. Their parents are both pressing charges along with yours. I'm so sorry. The police will need to take your statement tomorrow, but your parents will pick you up for that."

"Oh," Marinette said, sickened. Her sandwich threatened to reappear as she wondered which cousins had been his victims. Swallowing hard, she held onto Alya's hand tightly, though she didn't remember grabbing it.

“I want you to know that I am so sorry that this happened to you. Please remember that you’re not alone. Nothing he did is your fault. You’ve been a good friend to Alya for years and I hope you can see our house as a safe space.” Mrs. Césaire carefully knelt down next to Marinette and looked her in the eye. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but I’m here to help. If you don’t want to answer any of my next questions, that’s okay. You are welcome here no matter what, alright?”

After Marinette nodded in understanding, she asked, “Do you need to see a doctor for anything?”

“No, it’s just bruises,” Marinette shrunk down on her cushion. “I’m sorry to bother y-“

“You’re not a bother and it’s not your fault,” Mrs. Césaire interrupted.

Marinette shifted uncomfortably. “I should have known better than to-“

“It’s not your fault,” she repeated.

Still feeling dirty, Marinette’s mind chugged over what ifs. “But maybe if I’d just-“

“Sweetie, none of this is your fault. He’s worse than stagnant pond scum. You didn’t deserve any of this,” Alya insisted.

“But-,” Marinette stubbornly resisted, not meeting their eyes.

“You didn’t deserve this,” Mrs. Césaire echoed her daughter firmly. “It’s not your fault, Marinette.”

Finally looking back and forth at the two women’s resolute, caring faces, Marinette felt her resistance and guilt falter. She wanted to believe them, but it might take a while. Nonetheless, she felt something ugly festering behind her sternum lance open.

“You did nothing wrong.” Mrs. Césaire placed her hands flat on her thighs and braced herself. “Now, I’m sorry I have to ask this, but considering the news about your poor cousins I feel like I should. You are a good person and blameless no matter what you answer. Did he rape you or stick his penis inside your vagina or anus?”

“Mom, you can’t just say that!” Alya objected with horror. The blood rushed out of Marinette’s face. She felt nauseous.

Mrs. Césaire seemed resolute. “I only want to help, Alya. We all have those parts and don’t need to be embarrassed to talk about our bodies. However, no one has the right to touch your body without your permission. A rape can cause internal damage, STDs, or an unwanted pregnancy. If Marinette needs medical treatment, the sooner the better. She has nothing to be ashamed about. We are here to help her in whatever way she needs. There’s nothing she could say that would make us think less of her. Right, Alya?”

“Of course not,” Alya rushed to reassure Marinette, grabbing her hand and squeezing.

“I- well, no, nothing like that, thank goodness.” Screwing up her courage, she whispered, “The worst touching came this morning when he grabbed my breast and rubbed himself against my back. I think he was, like, turned on by what he was about to do, you know?” Marinette swallowed hard. “I got out of his hold and hit him in the face with my mug. Then I ran.”

Nodding with approval, Mrs. Césaire patted her hand. “Good for you! I’m glad you trusted us enough to tell us. Thank you. We believe you. You did exactly the right thing by hitting him and getting away, Marinette. I’ll bring in some pain pills for you later and you can choose whether to take them or not. Is there anything else we can do to help you right now?”

Having a respected adult like Mrs. Césaire tell Marinette she believed her meant a lot. Being bookended by her and Alya made her feel safe and warm. Marinette’s thought of the last person to give her safety. "Is Adrien okay? He went over with my mom. Did he get home safely?"

Mrs. Césaire’s lips twitched in savage satisfaction. "First off, Adrien and your parents are all fine. Your parent’s weren’t sure you should hear this or not and left it up to me. I think it might make you feel better, but it’s not easy news and you’ve had a rough day.”

“Whatever it is, I’d rather know.” Marinette firmed her lips and clutched tightly to Alya’s hand.

Nodding, she continued. “When Francois heard that he’d been found out, he tried to run. Your mother was in the doorway, so he charged at her." Marinette gasped, but Alya’s mother held up her hand soothingly. "She's fine. Your friend Adrien deflected the charge and managed to slam Francois into the wall, then tripped him to the ground and hogtied him with his apron strings.”

“Go Adrien,” Alya cheered.

Alya’s mother’s lips quirked in agreement. “The police came and arrested Francois. No one’s sure if his detached testicles came from Adrien, your father, your mother, or all three, but just in case he tries to sue for assault, no one is admitting to specifics. The police have him under guard at the hospital now. Then they're transferring him to the prison as soon as he’s treated.”

“I should feel bad for him,” Marinette said slowly, “but instead I feel a savage sort of satisfaction. Is that wrong?”

Placing a maternal arm around her shoulders, Mrs. Césaire gently squeezed. “No, that’s normal. I feel pretty great about it myself and it wasn’t even me or my children he hurt. Your therapist, when you find one in the next few weeks, will help you process things in a healthy way and heal, but you have the right to feel however you feel to about this as long as you don’t let those feelings lead to you hurting yourself or someone else.”

After giving Marinette another hug, she stood up, patted Alya’s shoulder, and turned to go. “I’ll bring you another tray of light food. You can play for a few more hours, but I’d like you in bed before eleven, please, since there’s still school tomorrow. Let me know if you girls need anything else, alright?”

They chorused their assent. By mutual consent they tabled anymore heavy conversation. Instead, they spent the rest of the evening on mindless games and movies before going to bed.

The next morning, Marinette decided to go to school as normal. She didn’t think staying in and dwelling on her problems would make her feel better. First, though, her parents planned on stopping by Alya’s house to talk.

When the knock came at the door, she felt a queasy mix of anxiety and hope. Seconds later, Mr. Césaire escorted her parents into the room. Giving his wife a quick glance, he shooed out Alya’s siblings and had them all out the door within two minutes flat. Alya had completely ignored her father’s attempts to catch her eye and stayed firmly glued to her place at Marinette’s side. Mrs. Césaire and Marinette’s parents exchanged pleasantries until the others were gone.

“How are you doing, Marinette,” her father asked carefully. His arm looked strangely pasty and withered with the cast off. Purple shadowed the flesh beneath his eyes and deep canyons creased between his brows. He looked very sad.

Unsettled, Marinette wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” he sighed. Slowly walking over to stand next to her chair, he unexpectedly knelt down and bowed his head. “I’m so very sorry. I love you very much and I hope you can someday forgive me for what happened. I’m going to do my best to be a better father from now on, baby girl.” Looking up to meet her eyes, he opened his arms.

“Oh, Daddy,” Marinette had promised herself no tears today, but here it was, barely breakfast and already she was dripping. Sliding off her chair, she fell into her father’s embrace. He tucked her close to his chest and pressed two kisses on the top of her hair.

“We have some things to say that are better taken sitting down, I think,” her mother gently interrupted.

Mrs. Césaire refilled everyone’s drinks as they shuffled around. Around the table sat Mrs. Césaire, Alya, and Marinette, then her father and her mother. Instead of taking her mother’s hand as was his wont, her father clenched his fingers into the edge of his shirt.

“I’m going to start at the end and then explain how it happened.” Her father’s voice sounded gruff and emotional. Staring at the middle of the table, he stated, “Francois is dead.”

Blinking in shock, Marinette could barely believe her ears. The Césaires seemed equally stunned. Then something horrible occurred to her. “Did you do it? Are you going to end up in jail?”

“No, though I can’t say it didn’t cross my mind.” Her father had a violent expression on his face that made him look like a stranger. “However, what really happened is that my Aunt Josephine tried first. Right after his depravity came to light at the family teleconference, she hopped in her car and drove straight through the night until she reached Paris. Aunt Jo confronted him in the hospital, broke an IV pole across his ribs, destroyed his hospital bed, and then pulled a handgun from her purse.”

Marinette and Alya gasped and clutched at each other’s hands.

Her father continued. “Before she could shoot Francois dead, the police and security managed to subdue her. However, Francois’s handcuffs slid off the broken bed rail during their struggle. He escaped the hospital.”

“No,” Marinette cried.

“Wait, you said he’s dead, didn’t you?” Alya asked, glancing between Marinette and her father anxiously.

“Yes, he’s dead. He can’t hurt you or anyone else ever again,” confirmed her father quickly. “He escaped from the hospital, but he was badly hurt. He only managed to stagger a few blocks. Then the police caught up. Francois tried to run, but he tripped on either a black or a red cat - the two officers couldn’t agree on color or if there’d actually been two cats instead of just one. Whatever the case, he tripped and tragically knocked into a homeless man, sending them both sprawling into the street right in front of a school bus. It didn’t have time to stop and killed them both. Luckily the bus had just left the station and was empty of children. That’s the end of it.”

Marinette’s head spun. “It’s awful that Francois had to take one last victim with him.”

“But at least he’s gone,” Alya offered quietly.

“Yeah, that’s true,” she breathed. It felt bad to be relieved about someone’s death, but she was. That poor homeless man though.

Rubbing a hand against her husband’s arm, her mother looked at them both compassionately. “Marinette, you can choose to stay home or to go to school today. Whatever you feel most comfortable with. We’ve closed the bakery for a few days to figure everything out and start to recover. With that in mind, we’re going to do a few sessions of family counseling starting tomorrow. I also set up an appointment with a highly recommended therapist for you. If you don’t like her, we’ll find someone else. It will take time, but I think our family can come out stronger from this tragedy.”

Suddenly, Alya’s cell phone alarm for school went off. Blushing, she fumbled her phone out and swiped it off. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be a mood killer.” She winced.

After patting her daughter’s shoulder, Mrs. Césaire stood up and began clearing the table. “I wish you luck with everything. If there’s anything our family can do to help, let me know.”

“You’ve already done a lot, Marlena. Thank you,” her father said, standing up and helping to clear the last of the dishes.

“I still want to go to school with Alya, I think,” Marinette said after a moment of thought. “I’ll just go crazy if I stay at home. Instead, I’ll distract myself by worrying about my history project and pre-calculus homework.”

“Good idea.” Her mother gave her an approving nod. Then everyone grabbed their coats and bags and left for the day.

At school, Marinette’s attention phased in and out all morning. Luckily her teachers didn’t call on her today. She started hoping for Hawk Moth to attack just to give her an outlet for her strange mood.

Then she went into history and saw Adrien. He looked unusually pale and was chewing on a pencil. Since she’d never seen him so much as chew gum, an alarm went off in her head. When he saw her, he straightened up, dropped the pencil, and sent her a supportive smile that looked strained at the edges. Just because her life was a mess didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to have problems. She’d have to talk to him as soon as possible. It was the least she owed him for his help yesterday.

Their teacher gave a short introduction and then released them into their project groups to plan. Marinette had paired up with Alya and Adrien, so this gave them a perfect chance to talk. However, their teacher walked around their side of the room first, so they had to discuss their project: Current parallels in Paris to the immigration boom of the 1980s. Finally the teacher strode to the other side of the room where Kim’s group had started a loud argument.

Before Marinette could say anything, Adrien leaned forward and nervously asked, “Have you talked to your parents this morning?”

Marinette traded a look with Alya. Then she leaned forward to keep her words private. “Yeah, it turns out that Francois tried to escape from the police at the hospital and got hit by a bus.”

Instead of wincing in shock, Adrien just nodded grimly. “I know.”

“How do you know? Did you talk to her parents too?” Alya demanded quietly.

Adrien shook his head. “No, I met with my personal trainer at 5:00 this morning for pool sprints. On the drive home, we were two cars back from the school bus when it screeched to a stop.” He swallowed. “I didn’t know what was happening until I saw them pull out Francois’s and Walter’s bodies.”

Marinette winced. She wasn’t upset that Francois was dead, but she wouldn’t want to actually see his dead body. To be honest, she’d rather forget he ever existed. Then she rewound Adrien’s words in her head and realized something.

“Wait, Walter? Is that the name of the homeless man?” Marinette asked. The name seemed familiar, as if he’d mentioned it before.

Giving a single, sharp nod of his head, Adrien’s expression became unemotional and controlled. “He used to be a fitter at the Gabriel Fashion House before he finally got fired.”

“Finally…?” Alya trailed off, obviously smelling a story.

Adrien rolled his shoulders uneasily and then shot Marinette a quick look. “Similar to the despicable Francois, Walter liked to touch people inappropriately, particularly the models who didn’t have a choice but to work with him. You may remember me mentioning him yesterday, Marinette. I had to put up with him and his horrible groping for years. He was a petty man who made himself feel powerful by bullying children. I was shocked to see dead bodies, but… I can’t say I’m sorry that those two are the ones dead. Maybe that makes me a bad person.”

Taking his cold fingers, Marinette squeezed. “Then I’m a bad person too, because I feel the same way. You already know my predilection for hitting, so it shouldn’t be a surprise.” Their eyes met and held in mutual understanding.

“We call all be bad together,” Alya said dryly. “There’s a certain amount of poetic justice in two child molesters getting killed by a school bus.” Surprised, Marinette found herself giggling along with her friends. Although the laughter was tinged with hysteria, they probably all felt better for it.

Cocking her head to the side, Alya added, “I’m going to try and contact the bus driver to let her know just what those men were. I bet it will make her feel better about the accident.”

“That’s a good idea,” Marinette agreed. Thank goodness for friends. She was so lucky.

At that point, Marinette realized she was still holding Adrien’s hand. She turned bright red. Adrien’s eyes went wide as he realized the same thing. Cheeks pink, he looked away shyly. They slowly pulled their hands back to their laps. Just then their teacher walked by, so the group returned to discussing their history project.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I’d be honored to know your thoughts.
> 
> If you or someone you know is being harassed or molested, please get help. You can call 800.656.HOPE (4673) to be connected with a trained, confidential staff member from a sexual assault service provider in your area OR visit www.RAINN.org online. You deserve better.
> 
> Next time on Anything: Adrien’s modeling photos reappear on Marinette’s walls and he finally gets introduced to Professor Ogbore, his mother’s old advisor.


	9. Billboards & Professors

 

"I got here as fast as I could when you called, but you still haven't told me why. Can I take my hand off my eyes yet?" Marinette impatiently asked Alya as they started to leave the subway station.

She had Tikki tucked securely in the inside pocket of her coat to stay warm. The kwami was napping for the third time today. She swore she wasn't sick, just unusually tired. Marinette had offered to take her to see Master Fu after school, but Tikki had waved off her concern and ordered her to go enjoy Alya's surprise instead. Just in case, Marinette had tucked a napkin full of raspberry macarons in with her.

Yesterday, she’d gone to her therapist for her now regular visit. After an emotional session, Marinette felt mentally drained but better about the world and her place in it. She didn't have to punish herself for what happened with Francois. She didn't deserve the abuse and, frankly, his memory didn’t deserve the importance. The sooner she stopped giving him power over her, the better. Unfortunately, ridding herself of his influence would take time. Marinette reminded herself again that she would get through this.

"Don’t look until we reach my surprise," Alya demanded, tightening her arm to keep Marinette from tripping as they walked up the staircase. 

A cold wind swirled down from above accompanied by a few small wet kisses on her face she assumed meant snow. An icy draft snuck down the back of her bare neck. She'd returned Adrien's blue scarf that morning, though not before washing it and mending a few of the torn stitches. Luckily she still had a bit of leftover yarn from when she'd first made it. Adrien still thought it had come from his father, but she'd come to peace with that years ago.

Alya pulled her from her thoughts. "You'll see the surprise when we get outside in a second. It just went up today in preparation for Valentine’s Day. As soon as I saw it I called you. Well, I bought something first, but then I called."

"I'm dying of curiosity here. What is it? Can I have a hint?" Marinette barely resisted the urge to peek through her fingers.

Alya laughed. "Have some patience, girlfriend! We're almost there. Here's the last step and then it becomes flat. Don't trip." The warning came too late as Marinette tried to put her foot on a step that wasn't there and fell forward. Alya yanked her back with a sigh and saved her nose from becoming a pancake.

"You can't expect me to be graceful with my eyes closed. That's unfair," Marinette protested. "Though thank you for saving me."

"I’m too aware of your clumsiness to release you right away," Alya teased lightly.

The sound of people chattering grew curiously louder as they came out into the open instead of dissipating like it usually did outside the subway station. Marinette heard a girl squeal and a man exclaim in admiration. She could barely stand it. "Can I open my eyes now? Please, oh Alya, greatest of all women forever and ever, amen?"

Laughing, Alya slipped her arm off and placed her hands on Marinette's shoulders, turning her to the left. She tapped her chin, tilting Marinette's head up. "Okay, you can open your eyes now."

Hand dropping, Marinette immediately squinted at the bright grey clouds burning into her eyes. A mysterious rectangular afterimage glowed against her closed eyelids when she blinked. It must be what Alya wanted her to see.

"Surprise!" Alya said cheerfully.

Blinking her watering eyes, Marinette’s eyes adjusted so she could finally see the billboard advertisement through the softly falling snow. "Ohhh wow," she breathed faintly as her mouth fell open and forgot to close.

On the billboard, two gorgeous models posed as Ladybug and Chat Noir in fashionable formalwear. The large, drifting snowflakes made the photo look surreal and magical. It advertised: _'Make your lover feel Miraculous this year with a gift from Gabriel_ ,' then their logo of a capital G in a circle.

They'd gotten the gorgeous Japanese model Miki to be Ladybug. Thank goodness they hadn’t gotten a statuesque blond or black model. Since they weren’t going literal with the clothes, they could have justified it. She felt extremely flattered they’d chosen someone beautiful AND Asian, even if Miki wasn’t part Chinese. This way, Marinette sort of looked like Miki if you squinted. Additionally, the structure and fabric of her Ladybug-inspired dress looked amazing, not to mention the accessories. Standing with her shoulders thrown back and her head tilted to the side in a grin, Miki’s Ladybug looked confident, cheerful, and approachable.

However, whatever genius had chosen Adrien Agreste to be Chat Noir was going to give her a heart attack. Every time she looked at his sultry face in the photo, she felt her head spin and her ears ring. So far, she’d distracted herself with Ladybug so her heart didn’t pound out of her chest. Marinette finally allowed herself to focus on Adrien where he crouched, all wild and sexy and _looking like Chat_.

Immediately her knees went weak. She started to swoon. Laughing, Alya propped her up.

Marinette’s perceptions kept swinging between feeling like she was looking at an unexpected stranger to finally seeing the reality hiding inside her friend, though which male friend wasn't clear. It was all extremely unsettling and made her head hurt and her eyes burn. Blinking would help, but that would mean she’d have to stop staring. Giggling, Alya tapped her gaping mouth shut and handed her a tissue for her drool. Unfortunately, Marinette didn’t have the attention to start wiping.

Adrien as Chat crouched tautly at Ladybug's feet in a black, three-piece suit. It looked expensive and cosmopolitan. The suit contrasted starkly and enticingly with the untamed, challenging look on his face. They'd done something with his hair and eyes that emphasized the wild look.

It felt like he was staring straight into her eyes and daring her to meet his challenge. Heaven help her, if he had actually been there, she wouldn't have been able to stop herself from trying. Competitiveness and banked desire would have propelled her forward. Thank goodness Chat wasn't here… and that Adrien wasn't either. She might have done something foolish like push his buttons until he snapped and kissed her.

Assuming she had such power, of course. It would be exhilarating to try... but such thoughts were _crazy sauce_ because she didn't have a chance of getting romantically involved with either boy, much less both of them. Of course, it wouldn't technically be cheating because they were the s….

At this point her thoughts became unwieldy and heavy like an armful of wet sheets. Her mind became tangled, turning inside out until if fell into a tub of white foam. It took her a while to flounder her way free.

When she finally climbed out of her stupor, she saw Alya's highly amused face. "You really should wipe the drool and snowflakes off your face before they freeze solid."

Marinette blushed, dropping her face to scrub it dry with the crumpled tissue in her hand. When she looked at the billboard again, she only saw Adrien dressed in a black suit inspired by Chat Noir. Still so absolutely handsome that she could eat him with a spoon, but no longer unsettling. She felt silly for her earlier cognitive dissonance and decided to not think about it again.

"So was this a good surprise or what?" Alya prompted.

Not taking her eyes off the picture, Marinette grinned. "This was an excellent surprise. Even though it's not actually Ladybug and Chat Noir, you should put a picture up on the Ladyblog."

"Oh, I'm planning on it," Alya agreed. "My surprise isn't done yet, though."

Forcing herself to look away, Marinette saw a mischievous twinkle in her friend's eye. "Will my poor heart survive it? You realize you've already killed what little indifference I'd built up to Adrien's charms. My heart is once more goo."

Alya gave a mock sigh. "Well, if you don't want to see the full magazine spread full of extra photos and a breakdown of all the clothing and accessories, I won't force you. Since I've already bought my copy, we can turn around and leave right now -ow!"

Yanking Alya towards the nearest newsstand, Marinette broke into a run. Her friend let herself be dragged, cackling the entire way. Once there, she released Alya to eel through the crowds. She triumphantly snatched up the last two copies of the fashion magazine featuring the Gabriel spread just in time. The outraged glares of the girls behind her didn't faze her at all.

"You don't need two!" one of them cried.

"Oh, yes I do," Marinette insisted fervently as she paid, slipping the magazines safely into her bag so the snow and other bitter shoppers couldn't ruin them. She clutched her bag to her chest with a happy sigh.

"Best friend ever?" Alya asked smugly.

Turning, Marinette caught her in a hug. "Best friend ever!" Laughing, they linked arms and made their way to the nearest café and shelter from the building snowstorm. Once there, they pored over the photographs, discussing the pros and cons of each.

That night, Marinette stayed up much too late daydreaming over the fashion photographs. After a spirited debate with Alya and several hours of agonizing, she finally decided on her favorite image just before bed. Although she loved the composition and feeling, she didn’t choose the photo of a fondly exasperated Chat balancing a smirking Ladybug while she adjusted the strap of her scarlet heel. It made Marinette smile every time she saw it, but it wasn’t her absolute favorite.

That honor belonged to the very last photo in the spread. It was unsettling, breathtaking, and beautiful. It showcased Chat Noir being possessive and protective of a weary but unconcerned Ladybug. Marinette’s independent side felt like she should be annoyed by anyone being possessive of Ladybug, but instead the photo made her want to squirm and bite her lip against the warmth behind her navel.

In the photo, Chat’s opal green eyes stared out savagely through his bangs like a crouching panther glaring out through stalks of yellowed grass. His parted lips showed a hint of teeth. One gloved hand spanned Ladybug’s waist to press her possessively against his side. His arm looked tense but his fingers relaxed, as if making sure his tight grip didn’t bruise. The other hand spun his cane through the air in a threatening blur. His primal expression proclaimed that anyone trying to hurt Ladybug would thoroughly regret it… if they lived that long. Adrien’s Chat looked stunning – both handsome and _dangerous_.

In contrast, Ladybug gazed up at Chat fearlessly. She relaxed in his embrace, knowing that the predator holding her close would never do anything but keep her safe. Something about her eyes looked weary with almost a hint of pain, but a secret, subtle smile curved her lips as she gazed up at his profile. Her red-gloved hand curled around the decorative ladybug yoyo on her hip as if in readiness to return to battle. She didn’t need protection, but she let herself be protected. This Ladybug loved and trusted her Chat Noir.

Using her craft razor, Marinette slowly and carefully cut the page from the magazine. Then she’d hung it up on her wall with a reverent sigh. It broke her self-imposed ban of putting Adrien’s modelling photos up on her bedroom walls, but she could defend that if necessary. Marinette had it all worked out. If anyone asked, she’d put a fashion focus on the outfits of Ladybug and Chat Noir instead. It was even true. The craftsmanship was exquisite.

Marinette wondered if the dress would be impractical to fight in. If not, she might have to have a word with Tikki. Maybe she could try it out as a Halloween favor in the fall? She had a few months to wear down the kwami’s resistance.

The next morning, after a good but slightly awkward breakfast where they all tried a little too hard to be a normal happy family, Marinette raced to school. She actually sat down in her desk early for once instead of late or barely on time. The teacher looked up from her notes, saw Marinette, and did a double-take. All of the students laughed, including Marinette. The teacher shrugged gamely, gave her a smiling salute, and returned to her notes.

As Marinette was silencing her phone, she noticed a new text message. Quickly opening it, she saw a greeting from Professor Ogbore. He would be at the museum today and asked her to swing by with Adrien.

Wincing, she realized that she still hadn't told Adrien about his mother's photo. Everything with Francois had snowballed so quickly that she'd completely forgotten. _What a rotten thing to do after all Adrien had done for her!_

Marinette had to tell him today, no matter what. She couldn't put it off any longer. She had to tell Adrien that she'd found an old photo of his mother. _Adrien wouldn’t think she was stalking him, right?_ They were friends now and it had just been a happy accident. Besides, Professor Ogbore was scheduled to be at the museum today, but he was a busy man. If she waited too long to work up the courage to talk to Adrien about it, the Professor might become too busy to meet up them.

_It wasn't a big deal, right?_ They were just friends now, good friends even. Adrien would want to know and if it meant she got to spend some quality time alone with him that didn't involve her pathetically crying over her problems, well, that was a bonus. If he gave her a grateful smile and maybe a hug for finding the photo, she wouldn't flail. She'd merely smile and pat his back, because that's what friends did.

Walking up behind Adrien in study hall, she looked at the air from the vent ruffling lovingly through his wheat-gold locks, at the way his broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his shirt, and at the kind and patient smile he gifted a frustrated Mylène with as she had him explain the physics problem just one more time. Four steps away from her goal, she heard him laugh sweetly. Her stomach fluttered, but she resolutely ignored it and kept her breathing even and calm.  

Then he tipped his head back into the warm sunbeam streaming in through the window, closed his eyes, and stretched, grabbing his wrist with one hand and pulling on his outstretched arm. Sunlight gilded his normally pale eyelashes and revealed a constellation of faint freckles on his cheeks. As he bent farther into the stretch, his shirt rode up, revealing a smooth and muscular swathe of creamy skin along his belly and side. His pants slipped down slightly until the shadow of his navel came into view.

Marinette's calm exploded like a spark in a room full of gas. Her cheeks became fire and all of the moisture evaporated from her mouth. Adrien looked gorgeous and edible and she had to get out of the room now before she threw herself into his lap and begged him to keep her pretty please with a cherry on top of whip cream with hot fudge and rainbow sprinkles.

_No bad touching, Marinette! Especially not of Adrien!_ Not after he explicitly told her he hated when random people just grabbed at him.

Pivoting on her heel, she raced out of the room. Her legs give out as she collapsed in the hallway. Breathing like a bellows, Marinette pressed her hand to her chest and tried to calm down and turn off the new screensaver bouncing around in her mind.

"Marinette, what are you doing?" Looking up, she saw Alya standing above her looking amused.

"Nothing!" Marinette squeaked.

Smirking, Alya dropped into a crouch. "You look like you're hiding. This is a classic Adrien flip-out pose if I've ever seen one. You haven't reverted to this since last spring. What gives?"

"He- he," gulping in air, she gave Alya a wide-eyed look and whispered, "he stretched and his shirt rode up and flashed me this much skin!" Marinette held out her finger and thumb in demonstration.

Alya giggled.

"I just needed to tell him something, but then I saw it and boom! There was too much bare skin and muscles! Yummy, yummy golden skin and hard muscles," Marinette defended wildly, placing her hands over her face and trying to calm down. "It's not my fault," she wailed against her fingers. "I just want to be his friend. I don't want to turn back into the idiot who can't talk or walk in a straight line around him. Why does he just get more handsome with age? Why not more ugly? Why?"

Placing a supportive hand on her arm, Alya said, "Oh, sweetie, more than half the people in this school would pay good money to see him completely shirt-less. You're not alone in that. Maybe I should take up a collection?"

"You're not helping," Marinette grumbled.

"Then what do you need? I could lure him out here and then trip him so he falls for you, or at least on top of you," Alya offered with mock-seriousness. "Though he's almost twice your size, so you might get squished. The price we pay for love."

Dropping her hands, Marinette sent her friend a glare. "There is no love, just friendship! I keep telling you that." Alya sent her a skeptical smirk. "There isn't!" Marinette insisted. "And no tripping him either."

"Then you need to stop falling for him and shackle him inside the friend zone so this doesn't happen anymore. Come on," Alya stood up and held out her hand. Marinette took it and let her friend haul her to her feet. She'd retreat for now and try again after school. Distance would help her rebuild her defenses.

Several hours later, Marinette put on her serious face and hunted down Adrien. Luckily she caught him alone after school and not stretching. Just in case, she focused on his second button.

"Hey Adrien, can I talk to you in private for a moment?" Marinette asked.

She sounded confident and calm, no flailing whatsoever. Mentally she patted herself on the back. Practicing with Alya in the bathroom had totally worked. Now she just had to get through the rest of the conversation.

Giving her a soft look, Adrien immediately nodded. "Of course, is everything alright? Did something happen with your parents?" he asked, taking a step forward protectively and looking down into her eyes with concern.  

"No, nothing like that," Marinette demurred. Her eyes started to glaze over as he rested his hand on her lower back and ushered her to a private corner of the courtyard. The warmth of his skin soaked intoxicatingly through the fabric of her coat. She had to remind herself that friends could touch like this. _It wasn't a big deal._ Marinette wouldn't let herself make it a big deal. "Things are actually better than they've been in a long time. We had some really good talks with the help of our family therapist and we're all trying hard to fix things. My parents also intend to give you free croissants for life, so anytime you want a snack you should stop by the bakery."

From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Adrien lean down and sniff her hair, but when she glanced up quizzically, he was looking away with a faint smile and rubbing the curve of his lower lip. Since it was a dangerously attractive pose, she immediately looked away. It was time for her to stop daydreaming, step up, and be a good friend to Adrien.

"That's a dangerous offer. I'll end up eating too many croissants and grow too fat to model anymore," Adrien gave her a small grin that wrinkled the corners of his green eyes. "It might be worth it for your father's croissants, though. No one makes them quite as good."

Unable to help herself, she smiled back. "You'll have to tell him that. It will make him happy."

"Then I will," Adrien nodded.

"I actually didn't pull you over here to talk about my parents or croissants," Marinette said quickly, feeling nervousness tightening the muscles in her back.

Adrien cocked his head in curiosity as she forced herself to continue. "I visited a small art gallery recently and met a professor of astrophysics named Adrien Ogbore."

"Good name," Adrien joked lightly when she paused to wet her lips anxiously.

"Exactly," Marinette said, but of course he had no idea what she meant. She just had to say it. "The gallery had an astronomy exhibit up with paintings and photos. Professor Ogbore showed me an old photo of one of his favorite students, a beautiful blond woman named Marie. He said he'd never shown anyone the picture before, but when he saw me sketching clothing designs in the gallery, he thought I would appreciate it. In the photo, Marie wore a gorgeous dress inspired by a shooting star. She was engaged to the man who designed the dress – Gabriel Agreste. I think Marie might be your mother?"

Adrien’s eyes went wide and he stopped breathing. Grabbing her arm, he leaned over her with a raw look on his face. "My mother? Are you sure?"

"I think so, but I could be wrong," Marinette said. "Professor Ogbore seemed sure. He said he'd make a copy of the photo if you wanted it."

"Of course I want it," Adrien laughed incredulously and shook his head as if dazed. "Wait, you said she was his student? Did she study astrophysics too? Is that where I get my interest from?"

Giving him a compassionate smile, she nodded. "It could be. Did you want to meet him? I bet he'd love to answer all of your questions. He texted me that he’s at the gallery today if you wanted to stop by. I could go with you, if you want."

Then Marinette realized that Adrien might want some privacy while talking about his missing mother. She still felt guilty about almost ruining his first Christmas without his mother by accusing Santa of kidnapping him. "Or I can just give you the address. Whatever you'd prefer is fine. Your mother is probably an emotional topic."

Adrien looked away as his eyes became glossy with unshed tears. "Yeah," he said thickly before clearing his throat. Blinking rapidly, he released his hold on her arm and stepped back, wrapping his arms around himself tightly and looking away. "Um, I'd love to meet him today, if you still want to come with me? If you're not too busy, that is. You don't have to. I can go alone." Adrien fidgeted. The knuckles of his hands went white from how tightly he gripped his jacket and unshed tears turned his eyelashes dark. He looked very alone. Marinette greatly admired Gabriel Agreste, but every once in a while she wondered about his relationship to his son. She suspected that Adrien had to do a lot of things alone.

"I'd be honored to come with you. Thank you," Marinette said firmly. Reaching out, she took his hand, loosening it from its stranglehold on his jacket to intertwine her fingers and squeeze gently. She couldn't help herself. She wanted to protect him from getting hurt, but that was probably beyond her powers. However, she would do everything she could to at least banish that look from his eyes.

"That's what friends are for, Adrien. I've got your back," she promised him, but then she forgot to stem her tongue and started to babble nervously, "and your front, but not your top, because your head is just too high off the ground since your last growth spurt. Maybe if I had a step-stool or running start? I could definitely flip up there, but then I'd have to sit on your shoulders and tuck my ankles beneath your arms to stay up and that could get awkward for you, though obviously you have the upper body and core strength to hold me up. Even though I haven't seen all your muscles I know that they're definitely… there… and I'll stop. Now."

Closing her eyes in mortification, she breathed out and surreptitiously tried to slip her fingers out of Adrien's. However, his hand immediately tightened, refusing to release her.  Marinette's eyes shot open in surprise.

Instead of annoyance or scorn, she saw him looking at her with fondness. He met her eyes for a beat of silence. "I am quite muscular, you're right," he finally said, deadpan.

Marinette snorted in shock, and then dissolved into giggles when Adrien winked at her rakishly. It was a very familiar expression, even though she'd never seen it on Adrien's face before. Something tickled in the back of her mind, another winking face with green eyes, but then a strange pressure in her ears distracted her and the thought disappeared.

Tugging her into a walk, Adrien then followed her corrective nudges towards the nearest transit stop. Giving her a sideways look, he said, "Although I don't know why you'd ever need to have the top of my head, rest assured that you are welcome up on my shoulders at any time."

"You're ridiculous," Marinette countered weakly, cheeks still hot.

"Sometimes," Adrien countered with a smile.

They reached the train station and his face fell into serious lines. Their hands fell apart as they boarded the train. Unfortunately, Marinette didn't have the courage to take it again after they sat down. The short ride and walk to the gallery passed in silence. The unhappy line between Adrien's brows grew deeper and deeper.

When they finally arrived at the gallery, Marinette expected Adrien to hover nervously on the sidewalk, but he surprised her. Marching forward swiftly, he opened the door and determinedly ushered her inside. Then he strode straight up to the desk.  Giving him a supportive nod, Mariette rang the bell.

Only a few seconds later the door to the back room opened. Professor Ogbore came out with a small, professional smile creasing his dark skin. Then he saw Marinette and his smile widened into genuine pleasure. "You came back."

When his eyes shifted to Adrien, the smile faded to an expression of startled recognition. "Adrien. You look more like your mother than I expected," Professor Ogbore shook his head. "I don't know why I'm surprised, considering the photos of you up everywhere, but the camera doesn't capture everything. Right now, you look just like Marie before a committee meeting. If you're going to throw up, the trashcan is next to the desk." He raised one eyebrow with gentle humor.

"You really did know my mom?" Adrien asked in a small voice. He suddenly looked young and fragile, as if a stiff breeze would knock him over. Stepping slowly, Marinette surreptitiously pressed her arm against his side, just in case.

"I did," the Professor answered with a complex smile. "Marie was one of the best students I've ever had and a treasured friend. She used to tease me that she'd name her first son after me, but I never took her seriously." He paused to clear his throat when emotion thickened his words. "I did her a disservice."

Stepping out around the desk, the professor held out his hand, "Adrien Ogbore. It is a pleasure and an honor to meet you, son."

"Adrien Agreste." Meeting his eyes, Adrien shook his hand firmly. "And the honor is all mine. If you aren't too busy, I'd love to hear more about my mother. I don't actually know much about her time in college. Did she study physics with you?"

"Astrophysics, actually," the Professor ushered them back into his office. "If she'd actually gotten her doctorate and stayed in the field, she'd probably be up for a Field medal for a breakthrough in mathematics. Your mother was a genius."

The next hour passed in a blur. Listening to stories of his mother, Adrien’s expression opened like a flower unfurling in the sun. His mother sounded like an amazing person. Marinette wished she could have met her before she'd disappeared. If Adrien had started school with them just one year earlier, she would have had the chance.

When the Professor started to wind down, Adrien hesitantly asked, "Do you know why she quit school? As a child, I remember her reading magazines full of strange numbers, but she kept them hidden and distracted me when I asked. Sometimes she'd sandwich them inside a fashion magazine like _Vogue Italia_ or _FRUiTS_ so no one would realize what she was really reading. The two of us probably went to the planetarium a hundred times over the years. I don't think she stopped caring about astrophysics, so why would she just give it up?"

Heaving a pained sigh, Professor Ogbore looked away and blinked hard. "Just because you care about something, doesn't mean you get to keep it." His words made both Marinette and Adrien flinch. They both had people and things they cared about but couldn't have.

"That's not really an answer," Adrien pushed after a moment of heavy silence.

Nodding his head, the Professor thinned his lips. "Very well, but I can only speculate. Marie's family never approved of her advanced studies. They were very traditional. From what I heard, she had to argue vociferously just to get the chance to attend college. Her parents were the last survivors of a once wide-spread and powerful family dynasty. They wanted her to settle down, get married to the man of their choosing, and start giving them lots of grandchildren. She agreed to the man they chose, Gabriel Agreste, but that backfired on them because he fell completely head over heels for Marie and indulged her shamelessly even when it contradicted her parent's wishes. When she asked to put off their wedding so she could finish her studies, he agreed. Gabriel could be arrogant, cold, and stern, but he truly doted on Marie. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her. Then she had that schizophrenic break and had to be hospitalized."

Jaw dropping open, Adrien silently mouthed the word, 'schizophrenia.' He looked shocked, but didn't interrupt. He must not have known. It made Marinette's chest ache in sympathy.

The Professor didn't seem to notice, lost in his memories. He just kept talking, "When she got out, Gabriel sided with her parents and convinced her to quit school, blaming the stress of the program for her break. She’d stabilized, but they refused to let her come back. I even went to Marie's house to talk to her, to try and change her mind, but Gabriel sat by her side the entire time holding her hand and glaring at me. He told me that they were to be married soon and she would be keeping the house. Marie wouldn't contradict him. She just gave me a hug, thanked me, and said goodbye.

“I can't say I didn't resent it. Marie had so much potential, such a brilliant mind. I've never seen another student like her before or since. I was young and arrogant myself. She was to be my star pupil and crowning achievement. However, she didn't care. You see, she loved the science, but she loved her family even more. When Marie gave her loyalty, she gave it absolutely, no matter the cost to herself. I think that going to college was the only thing she'd ever argued with her parents about. It made me bitter, that she wouldn't argue with her fiancé for the same thing.

“Marie told me that she’d always wanted children too and that she needed to focus on her family. She reasoned that the science, that the secrets of the stars would still be waiting for her to come back later. I was judgmental and unsympathetic about her situation and desires, arguing that other women juggled both careers and family just fine. My words didn’t make a difference. Then, six months after the wedding, she announced her pregnancy. Her happiness just made me more irritated. Soon after that her parents died in a car accident and I went on sabbatical to Germany for over a year. We lost touch.

“I regret it. I'll always regret it. I only found out that she'd disappeared when I unexpectedly ran into Carolyn a few months ago. That's when I finally admitted that I'd been an arrogant fool and a bad friend."

Adrien appeared overwhelmed with information. His face scrunched up in thought. He blinked a few times, and then looked up. "Carolyn? Do you mean Carrie Moreau?"

Ogbore nodded and gave a half-smile. "Marie and Carolyn, or Carrie, were best friends all through college after pairing up in my intro physics course. Carrie went into medicine and is doing surprisingly well, from what she said.  I half expected her to end up expelled for all of her shenanigans during school, but she pulled through and proved the doubters all wrong. She liked to encourage Marie to be more rebellious, even almost got them both arrested once at a rally. Gabriel hated her, thought her a bad influence and inappropriate friend, but Marie wouldn't hear a word against her."

Swallowing, Adrien looked down. "We used to visit her, mom and me. She always made mom laugh. I called her Aunt Carrie, but I haven't seen her since mom disappeared years ago."

"That's probably more your father's choice than hers," the Professor said snidely. Adrien flinched and closed his hand into a fist on his lap.

"That's not fair," Marinette defended. "You don't know that for sure." Gabriel loved his son. _He wouldn’t really keep away someone Adrien thought of as an Aunt, would he?_ Whatever the case, Adrien loved his father. Like his mother, he gave his loyalty whole-heartedly. Hearing his father criticized had to make him uncomfortable.

Blowing out a breath, Professor Ogbore inclined his head. "You're right. That was uncalled for, I'm sorry." Turning to Adrien, he said, "Why don't I give you Carrie's number? That way you can contact her and get her side of the story."

"Thank you," Adrien looked up with a precarious mask of calm on his face. "I'd appreciate that."

Pulling out a scrap of paper and pen, Professor Ogbore pulled up her contact on his phone and then jotted the number down. After a split-second pause, he slashed a line beneath it and then wrote his name and two more numbers along with an email address. Then he handed it over. "Here's her number and all my contact details. You're welcome to call me again if you ever need anything or just want to talk more about your mother or, or anything really. I know a lot about Universities in town, especially physics departments."

Waiting for Adrien to meet his eyes, he added earnestly. "I would be honored if you'd consider me an honorary godfather, considering we share the same name and both greatly esteem your mother. I know it's a little late, but I would like to be your friend if you're willing."

"Thank you. I'd like that," Adrien said quietly with a close-lipped but genuine smile.

"Good," Professor Ogbore returned solemnly. Then he looked down and blinked away the moisture standing in his eyes. "Oh," he opened a desk drawer, "I can't believe I didn't get the photo out for you earlier. I made a copy for you to keep. Here." He passed over the large envelope.

Taking it reverently, Adrien opened the flap and slid out the picture of his mother in her designer gown standing in front of the observatory window. She looked even more beautiful now than she had the first time Marinette had seen the photo. Hearing more about her story probably had a lot to do with that.

"My father made the dress?" Adrien asked.

Ogbore nodded. "Yes. He designed the dress and the observatory both for her. That's why the window has the leaded flower pattern with the opening in the middle for the telescope. He insisted on a beautiful form to go along with the function. I dabble in photography, so she let me practice with this photo. She was very proud of Gabriel’s gifts. I don't know if she ever got the observatory up and running, but over the years I've liked to think of her spending time there happily, staring up at the revolution of the stars."

A sad expression crossed Adrien's face, but he didn't say anything. He examined the photo for another minute. Then he gently slid it back into the envelope and sealed the flap. "Thank you for talking to us and for the photo," Adrien said haltingly. "You'll never know how much it meant to me, to hear about my mother again."

The Professor bowed his head. "It was my pleasure."

They said their goodbyes and left the gallery in brooding silence. At the train station, Adrien finally spoke. "Thank you so much for everything, Marinette."

"Of course," Marinette replied. She stepped closer, feeling helpless in the face of his emotional turmoil. It gave her the courage to ask, "Do you want to come over to the bakery for a bit? Eat one of your free croissants?"

Giving her a weak smile, Adrien looked down at her from less than a foot away. Their eyes locked and his smile faded away. She hadn't realized they'd gotten so close. The moment became charged. Adrien's eyes slipped closed and he dipped his head. She heard him inhale deeply through his nose. Then he released his breath with a soft sigh, as if he'd just smelled something comforting. He took a step back before she could scramble her wits to say or do something.

When she saw his closed but calm expression, she knew her moment was lost. Adrien shook his head, "No thanks. I'll have to take a raincheck. I think I need to just walk around for a while and settle my thoughts before the top of my head blows off from the pressure."

"Okay," Marinette murmured, but she couldn't just let him walk off without at least trying one last thing.

Nudging him gently, she tilted her head towards a bench, tucked her tongue into the corner of her mouth, and teased lightly, "Unless you think your head really is in danger of blowing off, because if it is, there's a bench I can use to hop up onto your shoulders right now to protect it." She wiggled her eyebrows.

Lips twitching, Adrien looked down on her and shook his head. "You're ridiculous." Some of the tension seeped out of his frame.

"Sometimes," she nodded, echoing their earlier conversation.

Adrien's face softened. "You're a good friend, Marinette. To be honest, I almost never notice how short you are because your personality and heart are so big. You're remarkable."

Heat shot over Marinette's face, lighting up her cheeks with a furious blush.

A smile tugged at Adrien's lips. "I'll see you tomorrow in class." He brushed the back of his fingers down her arm in farewell. Then turned and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the amazing response to the last chapter. You guys are wonderful!  
> Next time on Anywhere, Adrien meets up with his mother’s best friend and learns pivotal secrets about the day his mother disappeared from his life.


	10. Drowning the Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tissue alert. See end notes for warnings (to avoid spoilers).

 

Walking by, Adrien noticed his father standing in his now dark office staring up at the gold painting of his missing wife. Unmoving, he stood with his hands clasped behind his back. The room’s only illumination came from the night sky and the hall light, an uneasy blend of bone white and harsh yellow. Whatever his father saw when he got like this, it wasn’t the details of the Klimpt-inspired painting.

“Why don’t you ever talk about her?” Adrien hovered outside his father’s domain, his fingers barely pressing on the doorframe. The conversation with Professor Ogbore weighed heavily on his mind.

At the question, muscles up and down his father’s back clenched, but he didn’t turn around. The silence stretched. Dropping his hand to his side, Adrien sighed and turned to leave.

Abruptly his father spoke. “When you do everything you can to achieve a goal, giving it your blood and soul, calling in every favor, using all your time and money, wielding the lives of others, even ignoring should and should nots, and still it remains out of reach… saying too much dilutes the will and leads to acceptance of past-tense and defeat.”

“I don’t understand,” Adrien stared at the back of his father’s head, completely lost.

His father’s head tilted, giving Adrien a glimpse of the humorless twist to his lips. “As it should be.”

Adrien clenched his jaw at the answer, but he didn’t leave.

Sighing, his father turned and came to Adrien’s side. He placed a hand, heavy and hot, on his shoulder. With Adrien’s body blocking the hall light, most of his father’s features and form disappeared into the shadows like a chiaroscuro painting. Adrien both yearned for more connection and yet felt uneasy at the touch. His father squeezed his shoulder. “Your mother loves us. She’ll return one day. Nothing else need be said.”

Before the arguments cramming Adrien’s throat could escape, his father stepped past him and disappeared up the staircase without a backward glance. Adrien pressed his lips tight, ignoring the frustration stinging in his eyes. He kept his head down to avoid seeing the shadowed face of his mother. Spinning on his heel, he retreated to his room. He only realized his own hypocrisy in avoiding her image once the door to his room swung closed.

Sending his missing mother a silent apology, he decided to ignore his nerves and just call Aunt Carrie. If his father wouldn’t give him any information, maybe she would. The phone rang five times and went to voicemail. Hanging up without leaving a message, Adrien paced back and forth across his floor.

Tension thrummed through his body. Going to his climbing wall, he jumped up and grabbed a hold with both hands. As he climbed to the top, he purposefully avoided all of the easy handholds. Sweat beaded on his brow. Once at the ceiling, he let go, somersaulting to land on the floor in a crouch.

Launching himself to his feet, he snatched up his phone and hit redial. It rang four times. Then a female voice picked up with a confrontational, "Dr. Moreau speaking. This better not be a salesman or recording."

Adrien licked his lips and wiped an arm across his damp forehead. "Hello, um no, this is Adrien Agreste. I don't know if you remember me? You were friends with my mother, Marie Agreste."

"Yes, of course I remember you, Adrien. Of course I do." Carrie’s voice went from confident to shaky. She cleared her throat. "How’ve you been doing? Is everything alright?"

"I’m fine, thank you for asking,” Adrien answered politely. Then he let himself speak bluntly, “I haven't heard from you since my mother disappeared almost four years ago, but I ran into one of her old friends today, a Professor Ogbore. He gave me your number when I mentioned how I didn't know a lot about my mom's time at University. I mean, I didn't even know she had schizophrenia. It made me wonder if that's why she left and hasn't come back yet, because she's mentally ill. Maybe she just needs the right medication or something to remember that she belongs here with us."

"Adrien, does your father know you're talking to me?" Carrie’s voice sounded strange.

Frowning, Adrien clutched his phone tighter. "I'm eighteen now, not eight. I don't have to clear every phone call with him. It's not like I'm asking for classified secrets or something. I just thought you'd be willing to tell me more about my mom, your supposed best friend. She disappeared into thin air. I- I miss her and I thought you might too. No one ever talks about her anymore. You may not get along with my father, but I thought you loved my mom and cared about me at least a little bit. Just because my mom’s missing doesn’t mean she should be forgotten. I'm her son and I deserve to know. Please, Aunt Carrie, help me."

Through the phone, Adrien heard the unmistakable sound of crying. It made him realize that tears were dripping down his cheeks too. His mouth felt dry and his lips tasted salty. Sniffing, he mopped his face roughly with his sleeve.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Carrie said in thick voice. "You're right. Marie loved you more than anything. She’d want you to know. You both deserve that and your father's opinion doesn't matter anymore. I'm sorry I haven't been around-" she broke off as her voice became unintelligible. Adrien found himself having trouble keeping his breathing even. He turned away from the door and tried to muffle the sound behind his fist lest Nathalie hear and come investigate.

Finally, Carrie managed to get ahold of herself. "Sorry," she apologized wetly. "I'm out of town, but I'll be back in a few days. I don't think what I have to say should be done over the phone. Can I text you a time and place to meet when I get back?"

Clearing his throat, Adrien hoarsely replied, "Yes, of course. I'll see you then."

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Adrien had told Nathalie and the chef earlier that he intended to get takeout for dinner and then spend the night playing videogames. However, after such an emotionally wracking day, he decided to just skip dinner and go to sleep early. Despite his exhaustion, he tossed and turned for almost an hour, but finally managed to escape into unconsciousness.

* * *

 

When Carrie finally texted him back, Adrien put his escape plans into motion. After cancelling his driver after school, Nino helped distract his bodyguard. Adrien then ducked out and made sure to meet up with Chloe in public so he wasn't technically lying.

He'd told Nathalie that he’d be helping Chloe go shopping and would be home late. Chloe was of the few people on his father's approved friend list. She served as a valid excuse for changing the schedule. With his father unexpectedly traveling out of town this morning, Nathalie was too busy scrambling to yank Adrien’s chain shorter.

Despite the fact that Chloe was dating a boy in college, she still kissed his cheek lingeringly as soon as she saw him. “I’m glad you called me,” Chloe smiled. Then she wrapped herself around Adrien's arm like an octopus, pressing it against her chest, and began dragging him down the street. Her touches made him very uncomfortable, as always. Remembering his talk with Marinette about being more assertive, Adrien abruptly stopped moving.

Caught off guard, Chloe stumbled to a stop, almost falling onto her face. “Adrien! What’s the matter?”

“You’re a good person and my lifelong friend, Chloe,” he began. She preened and pressed herself closer “But I don’t like it when you kiss my cheek and press against me. When I try to get away, you ignore it and clutch even tighter.”

Flinching, Chloe leaned back, but didn’t let go. “What are you talking about? We always do this.”

“No, Chloe. _You_ always do this. I’ve never liked it and I wish you would stop.” He met her eyes levelly.

“But…“ lip trembling, Chloe stared at him with eyes swimming with tears, “aren’t we friends?”

Adrien would always be loyal to Chloe as one of his earliest friends. Plus, she was one of the few people who understood not having a mother anymore without him having to talk about it. However, they’d reacted to their losses in different ways. He didn't like the masks Chloe wore to protect herself from getting hurt. To keep herself feeling safe, she acted spoiled and self-centered, not seeming to care if she hurt others. She acted strong, but inside she was the most fragile person he knew.

“You’ll always be my friend, Chloe. This isn’t about that. I don’t want to hurt your feelings. I just get touched out with my modeling and the way people always crowd me, if you know what I mean. I have to be polite to strangers, no matter what I’d rather do or say. You aren’t a stranger, though. I’d like to be able to fully relax and be honest around you so our friendship can remain strong, but it’s hard when I’m uncomfortable with the way you touch me. Does that make sense?” He gave her a beseeching look.

Unwillingly, Chloe nodded. However, she didn’t drop her hands from his arm. Her mouth drooped in a frown.

Squaring his shoulders, Adrien let himself be a little manipulative. “Other people ignore it when I ask them to stop touching me, but they aren’t you, Chloe. You really know me. I don’t mind the occasional short hug from a friend, but unless I ask for it, I don’t really want more. Is that okay? Can you still be my friend knowing that?”

Chloe chewed on her lip and stared at him. Then with glacial slowness, she slid her fingers off his arm, leaned back, and crossed them over her chest. Subdued, she said, “Of course I’ll still be your friend, Adrien.”

“Thank you,” he gifted her with a smile, surprised but pleased that his words were actually working.

Blinking hard, Chloe looked down. “Can I- can I have a hug now?”

Adrien hesitated, wary of a trick, but in the end he couldn’t hold out in the face of her unhappiness. “OK, Chloe, a short, friendly hug. Then we can keep walking. Aren’t we supposed to be shopping for your date tonight before I take off??”

Shrugging moodily, Chloe stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his waist, and gave him perhaps the gentlest hug he’d ever received from her. Adrien squeezed back just once. Then he dropped his arms to his sides. “Shall we go?”

Though she stiffened at his words, Chloe nevertheless slid back without further protest and let go. It was practically a miracle. In his mind, a cartoon cheerleader with Marinette’s face jumped up and down shaking her pompoms.  Cartoon Adrien gave her a fistbump. 

“Why don’t you tell me where you’re going tonight on your date,” he invited.

Although she initially sounded stiff, within a minute Chloe had resumed her normal level of babbling. Thank goodness. Chloe had a good heart; she just rarely let it show. Her admiration of Ladybug came out of that. Unfortunately, Chloe usually preferred to pretend she didn't have a heart. It made it hard to be around her sometimes, but he refused to give up on her. He had too few friends to throw one away.

"Adrien, are you even listening to me?" Chloe asked demandingly. "I asked what you thought about buying this jacket!"

Forcing himself to focus, Adrien looked at the white denim and lace jacket in the window. It had denim along the shoulders, front, and upper back, with a long, ruffled lace hem that sat high on the waist. The lace had a tight pattern, which helped it look fashionable instead of frumpy. However, "Not every woman could pull off a jacket like that and still look classy, Chloe," he cautioned.

"But I really like it," Chloe whined. "Besides, I'm not most women."

"Very true," he placated. "As long as you keep the rest of your outfit simple, choose the right accessories, and with your confident attitude, I'm sure you'll make it look great. You always do."

A genuine smile peeked out of her unusually soft expression. "Thank you.” They went into the boutique. Chloe turned to say something, but then she saw someone over Adrien's shoulder. Her mouth snapped shut and her mask unfortunately fell back into place.

Raising her nose into the air, she sniffed haughtily. "Too bad _some_ girls just can't accept that they'll simply never be pretty. They should wear bags over their heads to spare the rest of us the discomfort."

Glancing back, he saw her focusing on Marinette outside as she walked by. Marinette’s hands, encased in pale pink and white knit gloves, flew enthusiastically through the air as she talked on her phone. A charcoal gray coat flapped around her legs. The cold made her cheeks glow rosily. Suddenly, she threw back her head and laughed with delight and abandon. Adrien personally found her animation delightful.

"Whatever, Chloe," he answered softly. As she’d said, Marinette wasn't pretty. No, instead, she was beautiful – both inside and out.

They hadn't been close his first year of school after he’d made such a bad first impression with the gum on her seat. It took a while for her strange discomfort with him to fade, but getting to finally know her had been a revelation. Marinette’s friendship felt like being wrapped in a warm scarf, biting into a sweet chocolate croissant, and then playing an exhilarating game of tag before collapsing onto the ground in fit of giggles.

Adrien wished Chloe and Marinette could be friends. Chloe had a wicked sense of humor in private that would leave Marinette in stitches and ease the sometimes burdened shape of her shoulders. Marinette could give Chloe the love and loyalty, not to mention the firm boundaries, that she secretly craved. Plus, she'd have no problem pointing out that Chloe was most wonderful when she acted true to herself. They'd be good for each other.

Unfortunately, they hated each other. They always believed the worst of each other and their opinions had formed well before he came on the scene. Sadly, neither seemed interested in moving beyond animosity.

Just as Marinette disappeared out of sight down the icy sidewalk, his phone produced a discrete beep. It was finally four thirty. "Uh oh, Chloe," he said with feigned surprise. "Aren't you supposed to be meeting up with your boyfriend soon?"

A complex expression twisted Chloe's face as she checked the time. "I am, but I don't want to leave you. You know that he's only my boyfriend because you won't be. We rarely get to hang out just the two of us anymore. I could cancel. "

Adrien shook his head. "Nah, you shouldn't leave the guy hanging like that. I'm happy to just be your friend. He's the boyfriend you've got and if you don’t like him, you could easily find another. Besides, I have something else I need to do. You go on and have fun."

"But, Adrien," she protested weakly, obviously still torn.

"We can always meet up online and play a videogame later this week," he offered. Although she’d publically disdained videogames for years, she’d become secretly addicted one memorable weekend in their junior year. Unsurprisingly, she was quite bloodthirsty in the virtual world.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. He didn't want to be late for his own meeting. Huffing, Chloe crossed her arms. "Fine, how about tonight?"

Adrien doubted that he'd be in any mood to play after his meeting. "I've got to work on a school report tonight and you've got your father's political rally tomorrow. We can figure it out at school later."

"I suppose," Chloe sighed dramatically. "But don't raid any villages without me, alright? I'm going to buy this and then run back home to shower before my date. Do you want a ride?"

"Nah, I'm good," Adrien said, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I'll catch you later, Chloe."

Before he could escape, Chloe jumped at him and gave him a tight hug, seemingly forgetting their earlier talk. "Bye, Adrien," she breathed coyly. "Call me if you change your mind."

Disentangling himself, he stepped back so she couldn't grab him again. At least she didn’t try to give him a goodbye kiss. That was progress. "Bye," he waved.

Chloe sighed and something complicated went through her eyes. Lowering her voice, she added, “If anyone asks, you were with me for hours. Good luck with your meeting.”  Then she smirked and turned her attention to the rack of accessories near the cash register. At that moment, he was grateful to have Chloe as a friend.

Following the map in his mind, Adrien left the boutique and strode down the street, coincidentally in the same direction that Marinette had gone. When he reached the transit station without seeing Marinette, he tried not to feel too disappointed. With every step, his mood had darkened. He'd planned on having this meeting with Carrie alone, but seeing Marinette on the sidewalk made him wistfully yearn to have her with him. Thinking back on his conversation with Professor Ogbore, he kept remembering the way Marinette had tucked herself into his shadow as a warm line of comfort, barely pressing but unequivocally there as support. He wanted that again. It was nice to not be alone.

An unexpected tap on his shoulder yanked Adrien out of his thoughts. Jumping in surprise, he turned around and saw Marinette standing behind him with a big grin. He should have guessed based on the faint scent of raspberry macarons, linen, and rose water. The only women he knew who smelled like that were Marinette and Ladybug. Yawning, Adrien wiggled his jaw to pop the pressure in his ears and lost his train of thought.

"Hi, Adrien!" She bounced on her heels cheerfully. "I didn't mean to scare you. I saw you waiting as I was waiting and then I thought that maybe we're going to the same place, so I thought I'd come and ask you about your waiting to see if we're waiting for the same thing, the thing that is a place and not a train, because the train part's obvious. Obviously." Her face turned red with embarrassment as she pressed her lips together firmly.

For some reason, Marinette randomly descended into babbling around him. When he wasn’t confused, he found it amusing. "Hi, Marinette," he gave her a faint smile, trying to decide how much to say and if he really could ask for her help.

The sheepish look on her face faded into one of concern. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he automatically replied.

Cocking her head to the side, she raised her brows skeptically. "O-kay, if you say so. Alya and I were supposed to hang out, but she cancelled on me, so I'm on my way home."

"If she alright?" Adrien asked.

Marinette waved off his concern. "Alya got a last minute interview with a Media Studies Professor. She knows everyone wants her in their University; she's just casting out lures to see which department will offer her the most incentives. This is the fifth professor in town that she's gotten to the negotiating table." She sighed. "I wish I had fashion professors calling _me_ , but then again, maybe it's just as well," looking away, her voice became soft and musing, "less temptation now that I've chosen to embrace duty."

"Temptation?" Adrien asked curiously.

Turning back, she flushed red again. "Never mind me, what about you? Where are you off to?"

At her question, his anxieties flooded back. "I-," he hesitated, but decided to give her the truth, "I contacted Carrie, my mom's friend. She wants to meet me at the Ladybug & Chat Noir statue in the park to talk about my mom."

"That's great," Marinette said encouragingly.

"Would you- would you mind coming with me?" Adrien asked before he could second-guess himself.

Surprised pleasure broke out on her face. "Sure, course I'll come."

"Thank you," he said, feeling better already about his upcoming meeting.

Once they exited the bus, they both shivered and fastened their coats higher as the temperature had dropped, especially in the shadows. They pulled their hats down as far as they'd go. Marinette had huddled down inside her scarf like a turtle in her shell. Only her blue eyes peeked out from the pink fabric.

Adrien didn't wear a scarf. He'd left it at home. The blue scarf had been a gift from his father for his fifteenth birthday. Today wasn't about his father; it was about his mother and her best friend. Adrien didn't want his father spoiling this conversation in any way, not even with a silent reminder of his presence.

"Hey Adrien," Marinette said, "if this meeting lasts past sunset, we're going to have to retreat inside or else risk becoming popsicles. I'll treat everyone to hot chocolate if it will help move things somewhere warmer."

"We'll have to see what Carrie wants. She specified the park. I suggested a bakery, but she insisted we meet at the statue. If it gets too cold for you, you can go and get warm in the nearest store until I'm done. You're doing me a favor by even being here. No reason for you to freeze to death with the rest of us. I can take you home when we’re done," Adrien offered.

Marinette sent him a mock-offended look. "Don't be ridiculous. I was just complaining. I'm here to support you and satisfy my curiosity about your mysterious, genius, beautiful mother. If you want privacy, say the word and I'll disappear, but otherwise you're stuck with me. You might have an urgent need to protect your head and I'm just the shoulder-hopping girl to do it."

"Thanks," he said with a small smile. As they neared the park, the sun came out from behind the clouds to warm the air. The shadows by the transit station had felt bitterly cold, but the temperature in the park wasn’t that bad.

They came around a turn in the path to see the statue of Ladybug and Chat Noir atop its pedestal. It always filled him with a sense of pride to see it. Adrien loved being Chat Noir, even if he did have to put up with unexpected schedule changes, constant danger, and Plagg to do it. He liked this statue much more than all of his modeling photos combined, though the recent photoshoot where he’d pretended to be Chat Noir in a three-piece suit ran a close second.

A mature redhead waited at the statue in a gray wool peacoat. She faced the opposite direction. Despite not seeing her for years, Adrien recognized his Aunt Carrie's plump silhouette immediately. She'd always given great hugs that smelled like cinnamon. When he'd lost his first tooth, he'd wished for cinnamon red hair just like hers. He'd burst into tears in front of the mirror when he saw blond hair still on his head. The money under his pillow from the tooth fairy hadn’t consoled him at all.

Pace speeding up, Adrien left Marinette behind in his rush. "Aunt Carrie," he called.

Turning around anxiously, her eyes went wide as she looked up at him. A delighted smile stretched her lips wide. "Adrien, you've gotten so tall! The little boy has turned into such a handsome young man. Come over here and give me a hug. I've missed you."

As a boy, Adrien used to grin up at her face before throwing his little body against her torso. She'd wrap her arms around his body, lift him up into the air, and give him tight squish hugs that made him feel warm and bubbly inside. Now he found himself leaning down to wrap his arms around her instead, much too big to be picked up, much less squished like he remembered. He thought it would be awkward, but it wasn't at all. The affection in her tight hug was clear as she squeezed and rocked him back and forth. Plus, she still smelled like cinnamon.

"It's good to see you again," she said, squeezing one last time before letting him go.

 "You too," Adrien replied.

Looking over his shoulder, Carrie gave a friendly smile. "And who's this young lady? Your girlfriend?" Adrien's heart skipped a beat.

"Oh, no, no," Marinette rushed to deny with a strange laugh. "We're just friends, school friends. I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Dr. Carolyn Moreau, but please call me Carrie,” she said with a friendly twinkle in her eye.

At Marinette’s loud denial, Adrien felt the flush of warm pleasure in his belly turn ice cold. She didn't have to be so vociferous about it. Was the thought of dating him really so distasteful? No one else seemed to think so, well, except for Ladybug. Depressed, he looked away from the two women and schooled his expression.

When he turned back, they’d finished shaking hands and had turned to the statue. “The artist did an amazing job of capturing the vitality and heroism of Paris's superheroes, don't you think?" Carrie asked, gesturing up. “The details in their faces are astounding.”

"He's very talented," Marinette answered with an awkward little laugh.

Remembering the man's obsession with meeting Ladybug, Adrien was pretty sure that had something to do with it. The artist had gotten evilized over his disappointment at not meeting Ladybug when she’d missed the unveiling ceremony, after all. Chat's attendance hadn't been good enough. Then again, she was just that kind of woman. Ladybug inspired obsession in a lot of people, himself included.

"Paris is lucky to have Ladybug," Adrien said, gazing up at her features for the millionth time in a futile attempt to see the face of the woman behind the mask.

 "They make me feel brave just looking at them," Carrie sighed, staring up at the statue as melancholy drew down the corners of her mouth. "That's one of the reasons why I wanted to meet here. I needed the reminder to be as brave as Paris's superhero duo. Otherwise, I might have chickened out and not shown up for this conversation."

Adrien only hid his flinch at her words through long practice with his father. "Why not?" he asked evenly.

Closing her eyes, Carrie swallowed hard. Then she met his eyes with an expression swimming with sadness. He'd beg if he had to. Carrie tilted her head towards the path. "Let's walk and I'll try to find the courage to explain my other reason for starting here."

They began to walk with Adrien sandwiched in the middle of the two women. A cloud drifted over the sun where it hung low on the horizon. He saw Marinette shiver as they moved into shadow, but he didn't even notice the drop in temperature through his focus on Carrie’s next words.

Licking chapped lips, Carrie began her story. "Marie was blessed with heightened beauty, smarts, and compassion. You have to understand that she was inherently good in a way that very few people in this world really are. Everyone loved her because she always did her best to be what the person wanted so they'd feel happy: her parents, her professors, her husband, even me, her best friend. Conflict and negative emotions were difficult for her to be around; they made her profoundly uncomfortable."

They left the park and slowly drifted down the street. "Because Marie felt like she had to change to make others happy, that she was responsible for making the people around her happy, she didn't do well with crowds or large groups of people. It made her too anxious and stressed. She'd never stand up for herself, only for others. It used to drive me crazy! It took me years to figure out who she was stripped of everyone else's opinions.

"Marie was a genius with a mind that never rested. Sometimes she'd babble on for hours whether someone was listening or not. All of that internal energy needed an outlet. As her friend, I learned that being too idle also made her anxious. It put her in a bad place mentally. I tried to always carry something around to keep her mind busy, even if just a little toy maze or crossword puzzle." Pressing her lips together tightly, Carrie pulled a water bottle out of her purse and took a sip.

"Is that related to the schizophrenia Professor Ogbore mentioned? That was the first I'd ever heard about her having any mental problems," Adrien asked tightly, his breathing speeding up. He felt powerless in his ignorance and so tense that a stiff breeze would probably snap him like a bowstring.

Gloved fingers brushed against the back of his hand, reminding him of Marinette's silent support. The lack of skin contact actually made it easier to calm down and slow his breathing. It reminded him of similar gloved touches from Ladybug during battle. It reminded him that he wasn’t alone.

Although Nino was Adrien's best friend, he had trouble dealing with the darker side of people without getting angry and depressed. Nino’s negative spiral could actually make problems worse. Over the years, Adrien had learned that some troubles were best kept private around Nino. It made their friendship go much more smoothly. Nino was such a good and loyal person otherwise that Adrien couldn't really resent him for it.

However, despite being much smaller physically, Adrien had no doubt that Marinette had shoulders strong enough to bear anything he had to say. Ladybug also would take his problems in stride. Those two women had each in their own way become firmly entrenched in his heart. In the face of trouble, they had eyes of flint and hearts of gold.

"I didn't know about the schizophrenia until she ended up in the hospital. I don't think anyone did." Carrie made an angry face. “Her family didn't believe in mental illness, said it was a label created by weak people and reinforced by con artists in a bid to get money out of gullible people who couldn't stand on their own two feet by themselves. Marie tried to hide it, but she struggled with highs and lows, with anxiety and depression. I tried to get her to go to the campus counseling center, but they couldn't treat her long-term without charging her parent's insurance policy. The one time she asked, her parents threatened to just bring her home so they wouldn't have to waste their money on quacks.

"After that conversation, it seemed like she got better. At least, I thought she did. She wanted all of us to think that, including herself. Grad school was tough, but Gabriel and I did our best to support her, one of the only things we've ever agreed on. Then I got busy designing a new physiology lab course and Gabriel had a big show coming up that had him scrambling because of a mistake by one of his suppliers. Marie was working on this math proof, something insanely complicated that barely anyone, including the professors, could understand. The head of her department was practically orgas-," Carrie cut herself off with a little blush as she looked back at their young faces and edited herself, "was really excited about it. He was constantly checking up on her progress. She worked on it feverishly, barely eating or sleeping until she finally submitted it to a journal for publication. We were excited for her, but everyone was just so busy.”

Guilt suffused her face. "We didn't notice that she'd started to spiral down until it was almost too late. I never got the full story, but the paramedics got called when she was discovered in a bad state on campus. Her parents whisked her away to a private psychiatric hospital and wouldn't let anyone see her. They told us she'd been diagnosed with schizophrenia, but that's it. In retrospect, I should have pressed for more information, but her family refused to talk about it and once we got her back, we all just wanted to forget about the scare."

Tipping back her water bottle, she drained it. Then she dropped it back in her purse. "After that, her parents decided that the pressures of school were too much for her, that it had caused her psychotic break. They wanted her to quit. Gabriel agreed with them. How could she stand up to all of them?" Carrie grimaced and gestured helplessly. "I know why they felt that way, her being sick terrified all of us, but it wasn't what she wanted. Nevertheless, Marie always put other people's happiness above her own. Making other people happy made her happy. So she put her studies aside and focused on being a wife and mother."

Heart heavy, Adrien couldn't help but ask, "Was she miserable staying at home with me then?"

"Oh no, not at all," Carrie rushed to assure him. "Never think that. She adored you, Adrien. Nothing made her happier than her husband and son. Just as she'd dreamed of one day explaining the working of the stars, she'd also dreamed of love and having babies. She wanted it all and didn't want to settle for less. If she had to do it sequentially instead of simultaneously, she would. Marie believed that having the important things just took time. If I heard it once, I heard her say it a thousand times, 'Carrie, have a little more patience! It'll either happen or something better will come along.'” She wrinkled her nose petulantly. “I hate waiting for things." Looking over at Adrien, she smiled sheepishly.

"I remember that about you," Adrien said, matching her grin weakly.

Reaching out, Carrie touched his chin lightly. "You are blessed with your mother's smile." Her eyes became wet and she looked away.

They reached a street corner and Carrie turned them left towards a quieter part of the city.  "Your mother was so happy with her life that she stopped taking her psychiatric pills altogether. I tried to convince her to stay on them, but she said she felt fine and her husband didn't like the reminder of her weakness. She also didn't want you to think less of her if you found out."

Carrie's face twisted in anger and frustration. "I told her that it was rubbish, that have an imbalance of neurotransmitters was a disease like any other, that taking pills was completely normal, but she refused to hear it. Every time I tried to bring up restarting her pills she changed the conversation. I eventually gave up because nothing happened. She really did seem fine. Time moved on and we all got older.

"However, one day your father Gabriel blinked, looked around, and realized that his son was growing up into a very intelligent and attractive young man without much input on his part. Since Gabriel Agreste has very firm opinions and a pathological need to control everything, he decided that this just wouldn't do. Although he loved your mother, he couldn't very well have her be the primary influence in your life over himself. Thus he insisted on switching to private tutors of his choice and ended Marie's home schooling. Gabriel also decided to bring you into the business as a fashion model so he could mold you into the perfect scion to take over his company when he eventually retired.”

Carrie wasn’t completely wrong about his father, but she also had an obvious bias against him. She didn’t take into account how much his father loved him. Adrien suspected that there was more to what happened than she knew. Unfortunately, his father’s lips were sealed so he couldn’t get his side of the story.

"As you began spending more and more time away from your mother at lessons and modeling jobs, Marie found herself with more free time.” Carrie frowned despairingly and rubbed her forehead hard.  “She became bored and increasingly anxious. We talked about it, but none of my suggestions worked." Dread began pooling in Adrien's stomach.

"Marie wanted to return to her study of astrophysics. Sometimes she'd call me in a manic mood and I'd put her on speakerphone while she babbled about math so advanced I couldn't understand a tenth of it. Yet her love of it made that tenth absolutely breathtaking. It seemed like a good option, but Gabriel categorically refused. He wouldn't hear of Marie taxing her mind that way. Instead, he put more money in her shopping account and suggested she take up yoga."

Face set in tight, unhappy lines, Carrie led them towards a park up ahead in the shadow of a big stone church. "Your mother wasn't content with her life, so she felt like a failure. The truth is, Gabriel failed her. I failed her. We all failed Marie."

Their pace slowed as Carrie wiped slowly escaping teardrops off her cheeks with shaking hands. Marinette reached around him to offer Carrie a tissue. Taking it, Carrie scrubbed her cheeks, but the tears just fell faster.

"We can stop talking if you need to," Adrien offered quietly. As much as he wanted to learn more about his mother, he didn't want to make anyone cry.

"No, I need to stop being a coward," Carrie said wetly, sniffling as she gave Adrien an apologetic look. “I need to borrow Ladybug’s bravery and finally tell you. I'm so sorry, Adrien. You were just a child and everything felt so raw, but you're old enough now. I should have ignored Gabriel. I shouldn't have listened to him. You should know."

Adrien's tongue felt frozen in his mouth as Carrie's words stuttered into several sobbing breaths. He felt scared. Part of him desperately wanted to hear her next words while the rest of him wanted to cover his ears and run away. This wouldn't be an easy truth.

"Know what, Carrie?" Marinette prompted gently as she leaned firmly against Adrien's arm, reminding him of her presence and almost making the air a bit less heavy.

Staring straight ahead, Carrie seemed to be struggling. Then she spoke. "Your mother called me the day she disappeared."

Adrien stopped breathing. Marinette became the pillar keeping him upright in a world that tipped and swayed alarmingly. The gates of the park were just ahead, but all Adrien could see or hear was Carrie as he waited for her next words.

"Your mother just wanted to make her family happy. In her mind, it was her highest duty. Marie decided that the problem was in her love of the stars. I tried to talk her down, asked her to take the emergency psych meds I insisted she keep in her jewelry box, but she wouldn't listen, just talked over me. She thought that being unhappy was a failing, but she said she knew how to fix it, fix herself so she wouldn't hurt her family. At first she sounded crazy, manic, but then her voice became completely calm. That terrified me most of all. She said-" Carrie blew out a quivering breath and forced it out, "she said that she was going to drown her dreams of the stars so she could finally be content with her down to earth life, that it would fix everything. She said she loved you and your father more than anything, that she loved m-me, and then she hung up."

Unexpectedly falling down onto her knees, Carrie curled forward and hung her head. Cinnamon-red hair draped over her face, but she continued talking. Her voice sounded like her throat was full of glass shards. "I ran out the door with the phone clutched in my hand. I called your father, your house, the cops; I called everyone I could think of. By the time I got to the house, she was gone.” Swallowing hard, she forced out, “We searched the city for almost three days before- before we found her."

Adrien jerked. "What? No," he mumbled in shock. _That wasn't right. None of this was right!_ She couldn't be talking about his mother. _What did Carrie mean, they found her?!_ No one had found her. His mother had just disappeared one day without a trace. That's what his father said, what _everyone_ said.

Carrie buried her hands in her hair and clenched her fists. "She was a Jane Doe in the ER of a small clinic on the outskirts of the city. Marie threw herself in the Seine, just like she said she was going to. In her insanity, she tried to drown the stars. A boat fished her out and got her to the clinic, but her heart stopped twice. She fell into a deep coma and they had to put her on life-support. Your father blamed me and promised he'd kill me if I came around either of you ever again. I blamed me too." She bit her lip so hard it began dripping blood down her chin. He should feel something about that, but he was too unstable.

Lifting her head to stare straight ahead, she confessed, "Gabriel put Marie in a private clinic, but I found out where and started volunteering there without his knowledge so I could see her regularly."

"Can I see her, see my mom," Adrien begged desperately, falling to his knees by Carrie's side and leaning forward. "Please, let me visit her!"

"Oh, Adrien," Carrie looked over into his face with red-rimmed eyes and trembling lips, "I'm so sorry. Three months ago, Marie contracted an infection that resisted antibiotics and passed away in her sleep. She's buried here," Carrie gestured and Adrien saw through blurring eyes that the park next to the church was actually a cemetery. "I brought you here to visit your mother's tombstone. She's dead."

Uncontrollable shaking overtook his body. Falling forward, Adrien closed his eyes and pressed his face against the cold, frost-bitten ground and broke into sobs that painfully cut his heart open with jagged knives. _It couldn't be true, it couldn't…_ , but deep down he knew it was. Aunt Carrie wouldn't lie to his face, not like his father. His mother really was dead, had been dead for three months. If only he'd known, he could have been visiting her in the hospital for years. He could have stopped wondering, worrying, imagining the worst, because he would have _known_. Instead, ignorance had brought him to this.

Inconsolable, he began to wail. It felt like the agony would flail him open, baring his pulsing organs and brittle bones to the sharp ice, that exposure to this truth was too much and he would bleed out on the ground until he joined her in death. He wanted to stop feeling it, stop hearing those words: _she’s dead_.

Clenching his fist, he punched the sidewalk. Then he did it again and again as hard as he could, trying to overwhelm his emotional pain with physical pain. His glove shredded on the hard ground and became saturated with blood, but the pain still wasn’t enough to free him. Going to hit the ground again, he knocked into something soft instead of hard.

Blinking uncomprehendingly, he stopped pounding. When he looked down, he found that a hand had interposed itself between him and the ground. The glove’s pink and white knit pattern was flecked red from his bloody knuckles. He'd hit Marinette.

Disgusted with himself, he gritted his teeth and snatched his throbbing hand against his chest. Adrien rocked back and forth, trying to exorcise the mental pain that made each breath in and out feel like the sharp snap of a breaking bone. Distantly he felt Marinette's warm body curve over his back, trying to shush and sooth his torment. Rationality disappeared. Adrien would never be sure how much time passed, but finally, he noticed his tears start to slow. Eventually he found the strength to open his puffy eyes and take stock of his surroundings.

He found his head lying in Marinette's lap with his fingers twisted tightly in the coat at her back. Her face was drenched with sympathetic tears, the lashes clumped and shining in the sunset. He could feel minute tremors shaking her small but sturdy frame. She must be freezing. Head aching, nose stuffy, and body feeling a million years old, Adrien unwound his stiff fingers and forced himself to sit up and away from her warm, sweet body.

"I want to see her," Adrien said hoarsely, then cleared his throat, "before the light's all gone. I want to see her headstone now."

Arms wrapped tightly around herself, Carrie stumbled awkwardly to her feet and nodded. "Let go see her then." Marinette passed out tissues to everyone. He swiped his cheeks carelessly and then wadded it up in his pocket.

Seemingly unconcerned that he’d hit her again, Marinette gently took Adrien's uninjured hand. Perhaps he should be pushing her away, but he couldn’t. Instead, he clutched her hand tightly in his. They entered the cemetery gates and passed a small duck pond that reflected the purpling sunset. Snow blanketed the ground and muffled their footsteps. Bare trees cast long shadows like skeletal fingers pointing where to find her grave.

Finally they left the path and trudged over crunching snow to a carefully maintained rectangle of stone. Adrien’s eyes kept skipping away from the words etched there. A bouquet of vibrant pink Stargazer lilies sat at its base in a midnight blue vase sprinkled with gold glitter. His fingers were probably cutting off the circulation to Marinette’s hand, but he couldn’t force them to unclench. Instead, all of his strength went to forcing his eyes to actually focus on the headstone’s epitaph.

_Marie Ann Agreste_

_Beloved Wife and Mother_

_Love Has No Limits_

Adrien couldn't read the carved years through the tears once more obscuring his vision. Staring fixedly, he finally managed to take in the entire scene of flowers, tomb, and snow to burn into his memory. They stayed until the last sunlight disappeared over the horizon and all hints of yellow cheer leeched into the frozen gray of night.

"Look," Marinette finally interrupted, pointing up. “Stars are already appearing in the eastern sky. We should get going now that it's dark, but they'll keep her company until the moon gets here. I don't know if you believe in heaven, but I bet she's up there right now, dancing with shooting stars and charming their secrets from the angels."

Adrien felt faint warmth fuzz over his pain at the picture painted by her words. His mother had loved to dance. He used to stand on her feet as they twirled. Somehow, he’d almost forgotten that.

When he looked down, Adrien realized that Marinette was holding not just his hand, but had wrapped her arm through Carrie's too. Marinette squeezed gently, adding, "Everything I've heard about Marie tells me that she loved you all very much and wouldn't want you to blame yourselves for anything that happened. It's not anyone's fault, not even hers. Her dearest wish was for your happiness. Mental illness tragically caused her death. It's okay to be sad about that, but I think it's also okay to think of her with happiness and remember what her tombstone says: love has no limits."

"You're right," Carrie said bracingly, giving her a grateful nod. "Marie would say the same thing. Thank you, Marinette."

They turned in tandem and began to walk back out to the street. Before they could go more than a few feet, however, Marinette stopped in her tracks. “Oh! Marlene’s here too!” she cried, pulling them forward to a nearby gravestone.

_Marlene Germaine Tillion_

_Always a Lady_

_A Heroine With & Without Spots_

“Did you know her?” Adrien asked, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat, but it still felt thick and painful. Everything felt painful.

Marinette wiped her cheeks and turned to him with a complex smile. “I only met her once, but she was… _Miraculous_.”

An icy breeze slipped down the collar of his coat. Seconds later, Carrie's teeth started to chatter as she shivered. Looking over at them, Carrie shook her head sharply and schooled her expression. "Brr! I don’t think any of us are up to a long walk right now. I'm going to call for a heated cab to take us all home. Take your time and I’ll let you know when it gets here." Carrie slipped free and pulled out her phone. As the call connected, she wandered towards the front gate, giving them some privacy.

“I’m sorry.” Adrien said, his taxed brain slowly turning over Marinette’s words as he looked back at Marlene’s tombstone. “Wait a second. Miraculous… lady… heroine… spots….” He gave Marinette a wide-eyed glance. “Are you saying she used to be…?” his voice faltered.

Giving him a closemouthed smile, Marinette leaned forward. “When she was young, she saved Paris.”

“In red?” he asked in soft wonderment.

“Red and black,” Marinette whispered reverently.

Looking between the two tombstones, Adrien found that he could still smile. He made a note to bring two bouquets of flowers when he came back to visit. “I’m glad she’s here. She can keep my mom company. I always hoped my mom would have a chance to meet Ladybug.”

_Not like this though._ His expression crumbled, but he forced his tears back. If he started crying again, he didn’t think he’d stop.

“We should join Carrie,” Marinette said quietly, nudging him out of his downward spiral. “The cab will be here soon.” Nodding, he silently followed her to the street.

As they waited, he felt an unexpected surge of gratitude for the woman by his side. Surreptitiously, he glanced over. Adrien saw the familiar slopes of Marinette’s forehead and jaw slowly outlined by silver as the moon crested the horizon. She’d twisted away slightly, looking down to rummage in her purse. The folded brim of her knit hat shadowed her eyes. The slight upturn at the tip of her nose plus the shape of her lips, glistening in the moonlight, made something in his chest spark to life. An epiphany hovered on the tip of his tongue, sweet and thick like creamy fondant oozing out of a milk chocolate shell. Instead of chasing the thought, Adrien released the pressure and looked away.

"Aha," Marinette pronounced with satisfaction as she pulled something out of her purse with a loud rustle. Holding out her hand, she offered him a cookie. "You can't go wrong with sugar," she said with a hopeful smile, pressing it closer to his face.

"Is it a macaron?" he asked as he took it from her fingers.

Her smile faltered, "Ah, no, sorry, just a sugar cookie."

Taking a bite, he felt butter and sugar disintegrate in his mouth. "It's good."

Smile restored, Marinette fished another out of her purse for herself. "Are macarons your favorite cookie, then?" she asked.

"They didn't used to be when I was a kid, but they are now," Adrien explained absently as he popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth and chewed, concentrating on the sweet flavor in a bid to make himself feel better and not fall back into numbness or despair.

"I've always loved macarons best, but only the ones my father makes," Marinette confided, looking away and shrugging self-consciously.

Just then, Carrie joined them. Marinette passed her a sugar cookie too. They munched in silence until the cab pulled up. As soon as they sat down in the warmth of the car, Adrien felt his body begin to crash. The pain in his head ebbed and flowed. He could barely keep his swollen eyes open. Between one blink and the next, Marinette disappeared from the cab.

"Adrien, wake up," Carrie said softly, shaking his shoulder. Opening his eyes, he realized that he'd fallen asleep on the drive to his house. "Hey there, kiddo," she said with a faint smile. "You should go inside and find your bed."

Shaking his head, he slid from the center of the seat to the door. "Yeah, I'll see you later," he said gruffly.

A touch on the shoulder stopped him. "I'd like that a lot," Carrie said earnestly. "You have my number now. I'd love to see you again. We could meet up at that place that makes those amazing cinnamon rolls with the buckets of frosting. If you want, that is," her fingers dropped from his shoulder. "Whatever you want, Adrien. I don’t know if you can forgive me, but if you can, I'll do whatever you need me to do to make this better for you."

Pressing his lips together, he looked at the deep wrinkles on her forehead, the shadows in her eyes, and the gray-threaded copper of her hair. The grudge he'd been building in his gut drained away. In its place, he pulled on memories of long lunches with his mother, where Carrie would slip him crayons and cinnamon candies under the table when he'd get bored. Feeling young and vulnerable, he asked, "How about a hug goodbye, Aunt Carrie. Then next time, you can tell me more stories about my mother.”

Giving him a trembling smile, she reached out and engulfed him in her arms. “Definitely.” Sitting down, their heights weren't that different. It felt nice. "See you soon," she promised.

"Yeah," he agreed, breathing in the cinnamon scent of her hair for a moment before letting go. Adrien would see her again, no matter what his father wanted.

To be honest, he didn't know if he'd ever forgive his father for keeping the secret of his mother’s fate from him. It hurt to know she was dead, but he also felt relief. He didn’t have to hope anymore. Hope hurt. At least he could mourn now. Maybe someday he’d find some kind of peace. Someday.

If Gabriel hadn't been out of town on business, Adrien would have walked into his office and punched him in the face.

As it was, Adrien went up to his room, stripped off his clothes, and collapsed into bed. He thought the revelations of the day would keep him up, but he was too tired. As soon as his swollen eyelids closed, he fell asleep.

Although he woke up the next day with a sore throat as if he'd been screaming, at least he couldn't remember the details of his dreams. He did remember that his mother was dead. He’d have to grieve more over that later. Right now, though, he had to track his father down and finally make him talk.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Discussion of mental illness, suicide attempt, and death.
> 
> Thank you so much for continuing on this journey with me. Reminder that my Indygodusk Tumblr has some pictures that go along with the story, like real-life casting and a picture of Chloe’s jacket. The next few chapters are going to be intense. The next chapter starts the big events that will rock this universe and eventually lead us to the final showdown with Hawkmoth. However, soccer season has also started in my house. This means that I’m going to games on Saturdays instead of writing in the back corner of Chick-fil-a with my endless refills of Coke Zero. I have the next two chapters written, maybe three, but then the updates might slow down a bit. The final size is projected to be around 120,000 words now. I'm so long-winded. Nonetheless, I’ll do my best! Please keep encouraging me with your awesome comments!
> 
> Next time on Anywhere, Adrien confronts his father, Marinette goes shopping at the mall with her mom, and Plagg’s spell gets strained to the breaking point in the middle of a fight.


	11. Shopping and Trains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next three chapters all take place on the same day. No need to cry in this chapter, either! Next one though…. *wink*

When Marinette came downstairs for breakfast on Saturday, she made sure to give her mother a big hug. Adrien's anguish had sent her empathy to some painful places, imaging herself in his shoes. Marinette knew better than to expect that he'd ever get over the loss of his mother. She never would. However, hopefully the wounds could at least start to scar over and heal now.

The whole situation made her take a good hard look at her priorities. She thought about the women she knew, about the story of Adrien's mom, and the advice of Jihenne Bey in that crumbling church. After a few hours of tossing and turning, she made her choice. Marinette decided to put her parents and Ladybug first in her life. Everything else would either fall into place or could be put off until later. Once she made that choice, she'd felt suffused with peace and had slipped easily into sleep.

"What's this for?" her mom asked, her almond eyes crinkling with fondness as she hugged her daughter back.

"Just because I love you," Marinette squeezed tight one more time before stepping back and sitting down in front of her breakfast plate.

"I love you too, sweetheart." Filling Marinette's cup, she dropped a kiss on Marinette's head and then left to put the juice back in the fridge. "What are your plans for the day?"

"I'm going to meet up with Alya at the mall. She wants to buy some new shoes for the Valentine's dance next week. We were supposed to go yesterday, but she cancelled on me." Forking her eggs onto her triangle of toast, Marinette folded it over and stuffed half into her mouth.

Shaking her head at Marinette's manners, her mother pushed the napkins closer. "You should buy yourself something nice. You could still go to the dance too."

After swallowing, Marinette took a big gulp of juice to buy herself time to think of what to say. Finally she settled on, "Mom, I'm single right now, remember?"

"But I bet you have lots of nice boys at school who would be willing to go to the dance with you if you acted interested," her mother prompted.

"No, mom."

"Well, one of our customers, Madam Belvedere, has a son your age. He's single, she told me just yesterday, and is picking up a bakery order this morning. You could meet hi-"

"No, mom! I don't want you setting me up with some stranger. I don't need to go to the Valentine’s dance. It's fine." Marinette wasn't interested in the "nice boys" at school. Well, except for one, but he wasn’t interested in her. The only other boy she’d consider was unavailable. If only she could combine the two into one perfect man… wiggling her jaw, Marinette popped her ears.

Blanking she looked at mother before remembering what they were talking about: going to the Valentine’s Dance. “Mom, I may want a boyfriend, but I don’t _need_ one. I refuse to take a pity date or a mouth-breather out of desperation. I’d rather just stay home.”

Her mother opened her mouth to continue her nagging, but luckily just then Marinette's phone rang. "I have to take this. Sorry!" Jumping up from her seat, she dashed up to her room and closed the door.

"Hey, you just totally saved me from my mom's matchmaking attempt. Perfect timing." Wiping a bit of egg off her lip, Marinette flung it into her trashcan and then plopped into her desk chair.

On the other side of the line, Alya laughed. "Happy to serve, though if you got yourself a man, she’d stop."

“As if it’s that easy,” Marinette scoffed.

Humming with amusement, Alya countered, “I saw you get asked out in class this week. Guys like you. They find you easy to talk to. You should take them up on it.”

“I don’t want those boys.” Marinette tucked her phone into the crook of her shoulder and crossed her arms mulishly.

“It doesn’t have to be serious. Casual dating can be fun. At least you wouldn’t be single on Valentine’s Day,” Alya wheedled.

Marinette quirked her lips unhappily. “I used that reasoning to date my last two boyfriends, remember?  Then they gave me guilt-trips, made me feel like a crap girlfriend, and finally dumped me. Being single is way better, even if I’m alone on the holiday of love.”

Sighing, Alya gave in. “I suppose. I just want you to be happy, sweetie. That’s all. You were there for me when I broke it off with Nino at the end of sophomore year and brought me to my senses when I had that completely regrettable two week relationship with Kim at the start of Junior. I had some fun flings for a few months, but without your encouragement, I wouldn’t have gotten back with Nino over New Years. However, I know where your heart lies. I can see how it sucks to settle for less. I’ll lay off for now.”

"Good, I’ll take it. So, we still on for shopping at ten?" Marinette asked, changing the subject. As she spoke, she tidied a stack of papers on her desk. Beneath an old math assignment she found a single dirty sock. Wrinkling her nose, she threw it towards the laundry basket. It slid in dead center and Marinette pumped her fist in the air in self-congratulations at her perfect aim.

"We-ell," Alya drawled, making Marinette’s hand drop, "not quite."

Brow furrowed, Marinette frowned, "Are you ditching me again?"

"I'm not ditching you!" Alya cried defensively. "And you ditch me all the time."

"That's not nice," Marinette grumbled.

"Sorry," Alya sighed. "I'm not ditching you, but I do have to cancel our plans."

"That sounds like the same thing," Marinette pointed out.

Bedsprings creaked through the phone as Alya shifted on her bed. "Except I'm unwilling. That negates the definition of ditching. The truth is, I'm broke and when I went to borrow some money from my mom for the shoes, she decided her money would be better spent on taking the kids to the museum today. My attendance is mandatory since I'm one of her kids," Alya grumbled.

"I see," Marinette sighed in disappointment.

"I already asked if you could come, but then she tricked me by asking if I'd pay less attention to my siblings with you around and I stupidly said yes. I'd just woken up and she ambushed me! Therefore in order to create special family memories today, I'm not allowed to invite any friends. It's totally unfair." Alya pouted through the phone. "Sorry."

"It's alright. You're not allowed to cancel on me next time we make plans though, or I'll start to get a complex. Twice is bad luck, but three's a conspiracy to avoid me!" Marinette scolded.

"I won't, I promise! Maybe you can come over after school on Monday and help me figure out which heels in my closet best match my dress, since I'm not getting new ones," Alya grumbled.

Kicking her feet up onto her desk, Marinette glanced at her calendar and shrugged. "Sounds good."

"Then it's a date," Alya said. "Unless, of course, something comes up with you and Adrien. I heard that he hasn't asked anyone to the dance yet. You've gotten a lot cozier lately. Maybe you should try to get a date with him instead…" she trailed off leadingly.

"Alya~," Marinette groaned, dropping her feet to the floor, "don't even go there. I care for him a lot, but we're just good friends! He really helped me out when I needed it and I'm trying to repay the favor by being there for him. Adrien is going through a very tough time right now and just needs a friend. It's really sad. I want to be there for him."

"What happened?" Alya asked, curiosity and sympathy blending in her voice.

Marinette winced. "It's private, so I shouldn't talk about it. Sorry I said anything. Adrien just really needs his friends supporting him right now. He needs good things. If he wants anyone to know, he'll say something, but if you and Nino could help me cheer him up at school, that'd be great."

"Of course, girlfriend, you know you can count on me," Alya promised. Through the phone, Marinette heard someone knocking on Alya's door. "Ugh, I gotta get going. Family time officially starts now. See you on Monday."

"See you," Marinette said, and then hung up the phone.

Pursing her lips, she looked at her desk in consideration and then opened the bottom junk drawer. She had some papers in here somewhere from a few years ago when she'd tried to make sense of Hawk Moth's pattern of attacks. Maybe she should work on them again. She hadn't gotten very far back then before getting distracted and dropping it. "Operation: Be a better Ladybug starts now."

"Good luck!" Tikki encouraged. "Though I think you already are a wonderful Ladybug, Marinette."

"Thanks, Tikki. You're a good friend and I love you. I should tell you that more often," Marinette sent her a grateful look.

Cheeks turning dark as she blushed, Tikki beamed back. "I love you too, Marinette. I'm so glad Master Fu chose you to be my Ladybug this cycle."

* * *

 

After pushing the food around his breakfast plate for ten minutes, Adrien gave up on developing an appetite and returned to his room. Passing the large portrait of himself and his father in the hallway, he his fists clench. _Why would his father lie to him like that? Why mislead him about his mom?_

Adrien needed answers.

Plans sparking, he hurried into his room. Only his father had the answers he needed, but his father was in Amsterdam right now. A video call wasn't good enough. They could be interrupted or his father could refuse to talk and hang up.

No, Adrien had to confront him face to face. If he hurried, he could catch the morning train before they discovered he was gone.  So decided, he grabbed his backpack to hold Plagg along with his wallet and phone.

"There's no school today. What are you doing being industrious so early in the morning?" Plagg whined, sending him a sideways glare.

"I have to talk to my father. We're going to Amsterdam to demand some answers." Adrien zipped his bag mostly shut.

Flopping backwards onto his bed, Plagg asked, "Can't we just call? Or wait for him to get back into town?"

"No." Adrien sent his friend a scowl.

"Fine, fine," Plagg said, rolling onto his stomach with a sigh. "You packed my camembert, right?"

Going to his mini-fridge, Adrien pulled out a wooden box of cheese and threw it in his bag. "There, can we go now?" He strode towards the door.

"If you insist. However, you might want to let Ladybug know we'll be out of town in case of a fight," Plagg said, causing Adrien to pull up short. "Or better yet, we could just not go," he prompted hopefully.

"We're going," Adrien glared. Then he snapped, "Claws out!" and transformed into Chat Noir.

Pulling out his baton, he pressed the button to call Ladybug. Plagg was right, he couldn't leave without telling her. It rang for quite a while, but he kept trying. He wasn't sure how long it would take her to notice if she wasn't transformed.

Finally Ladybug picked up, "Chat Noir? Is everything alright?" she asked anxiously, slightly out of breath on the small screen. "Are you under attack somewhere?"

"I'm fine, there's no attack," he reassured her nervously.

"Oh, then why did you call me?" she asked with confusion, then winced and rushed to say, "Not that you can't just call me. You're welcome to call me whenever you need to. Do you need to chat, Chat?" Pausing, she snorted and rolled her eyes in disgust at what she’d just said.

Despite his previous bad mood, he found himself smiling at seeing Ladybug’s face and hearing her inadvertent wordplay. She really was miraculous. He even found the energy to tease. "You like to pretend, but I know you love the puns.”

“Sure I do,” she said dryly.

Chat winked cheekily, then got back to business. He felt his face fall into serious lines. “I actually called to tell you that I'm going out of town for a day or two. So far the week’s been fine. Hopefully there won't be any attacks this weekend. I'm sorry to abandon you, but this is something I really have to do. I'll come back as soon as I can."

"Then go and do it," Ladybug said firmly, staring straight into his eyes. "I'll be fine. You take care of yourself and don't worry about me."

"Are you sure?" Chat asked, suddenly hesitant and doubtful. _What if something happened while he was gone? Was this a mistake?_

Ladybug cocked her head to the side. "Of course I'm sure. I know being Chat Noir is important, but so are you. I trust your instincts. If you feel like this is something you really have to do, go and do it. I'll deal with any trouble that might come up and keep Paris safe for you until you return, alright?"

"Yeah, thank you," Chat sighed.

"You're welcome. Now, don't forget to bring a snack and something to do on your trip! And not just that stinky cheese you always carry but don't actually like to eat. You're always forgetting to take care of yourself," she nagged.

"Ladybug," he shook his head.

"Ah!" Ladybug interrupted with one finger raised. "You'll make me worry. Promise me you'll take care of yourself when I'm not there to watch out for you."

Rolling his eyes, he smiled. "I promise, bossypants."

"Good." He could hear the answering smile in her voice. "And that's Mademoiselle Bossypants to you."

"You really want me to call you that?" he teased with a raised brow. "Because I certainly can in the middle of a battle."

Ladybug giggled and checked her imaginary watch. "Oh, look at the time! You're going to be late for your trip. You’d better get going."

Chuckling, Chat Noir shook his head. "Goodbye, my Lady."

Ladybug's voice went silky, "Goodbye, mon petit chaton." Then she disconnected the call.

Lifting his baton to his lips, Chat gave the blank screen a lingering kiss. _He really did love that woman._ Tucking it away, he transformed back to Adrien.

Still smiling softly, he watched as Plagg flew out of his ring and around the room like a deflating balloon before dropping onto the couch. "I don't care if you only made a phone call. I still want cheese for that," the kwami demanded acerbically. Shrugging agreeably, Adrien grabbed the last piece of cheese from the box in his desk and handed it to Plagg.

Then, as promised, he grabbed himself a snack and a comic book, tucking them both into his bag. In the time it took him to do that, Plagg inhaled the triangle of cheese. Rolling the heavy-lidded kwami into his backpack, Adrien swung it over his shoulder and left for the train station.

* * *

 

Despite her very vocal protests, her mother had decided that Marinette needed a new dress for Valentine's Day. Thus as soon as the breakfast rush at the bakery ended, Marinette found herself going through clothing racks at the Beaugrenelle Paris Mall. The multiple levels soared high into the air around a central courtyard. The ceiling boasted stained glass windows with purple, blue, and rose swirls that painted the crowds and walkways below into scattered gemstones. Esthetically, it was one of her favorite shopping mall in Paris.

However, right now she didn't want to be at the mall. She'd be better served by study instead of shopping. Paris needed Ladybug's strategic mind more than Marinette needed a new dress for a dance she wasn’t going to.

"What about this one, sweetheart?" her mom asked, holding up a dress in deep purple with lime green ribbon rose accents. “It looks very trendy.”

Wrinkling her nose, Marinette shook her head. "Not my style. Besides, you know I like pink."

"Not something pink," her mother insisted firmly. She put the purple dress back with a sigh. "You're almost out of high school. Pink is cute, but maybe it's time you tried something a little different for once, something a bit more bold and daring."

"Why?" Marinette whined, thinking that she got enough of being daring as Ladybug. "I don't have a boyfriend right now or even anywhere to wear a bold new dress. As I said before, I'm certainly not going to the school dance by myself or with a blind date!"

She hadn't told her mother that she actually had been asked to the dance twice, once by her ex interested in giving it another go and once by her lab partner. She'd turned them both down. Marinette didn't want either one of her old boyfriends back, even if they had been the ones to dump her first. As for her lab partner, he'd just shrugged at her refusal, turned around, and asked the girl at the bench behind them.

To be honest, none of the boys at school interested her right now (except for her eternal torch for a certain blond). Her heart felt too bruised and weary from the events of the past few months. If she couldn't have Adrien Agreste, dating didn't seem worth the bother. Not unless it was Chat Noir, but she wasn't sure how to have Chat as Marinette. Thinking about either man just made her head hurt.

"If you have a new dress that you love, you're more likely to discover an occasion to wear it," her mother answered serenely. "I just-," suddenly her voice became thick and she stopped to swallow. Concerned, Marinette stopped her desultory flipping through the dress racks to give her mother her full attention.

Blowing out a breath, her mother's dark eyes met hers earnestly. "After everything that's happened, I just want you to be happy, Marinette. You're a young woman now, not just my little girl. You deserve a nice dress that makes you feel confident and beautiful, because you are. You're the most beautiful young woman in the whole wide world."

Eyes swimming, Marinette pulled her mother into a tight hug. "You might be a little bit biased, but I love you too, mom," she whispered into her mother's hair. "If I turn out half as pretty as you, I'll count myself lucky."

Sniffling, her mother gave her a final squeeze before stepping back and wiping at her eyes. "You're already prettier than me, my dear. Your father and I did a good job with you."

Then her mother's almond eyes looked up over her head and widened. "Ohh," she breathed, "you have to try on that one." She grabbed Marinette's arm and pulled her out of the store and across the walkway to different store. The manikin in the window wore a gorgeous red dress with a structured skirt and flowing gauze sleeves. It looked familiar, _perhaps from one of her fashion magazines?_ Before she could place it, they were interrupted.

"Good choice, Madam," the statuesque saleswoman said as she came out to usher them into the boutique. With her ebony skin set off by a puce blouse, nude pencil skirt, and blush heels, she looked the very picture of sophisticated elegance. Marinette felt small and dumpy in comparison as the woman gestured to the dress. "The Ladybug dress is one of our most popular.” Immediately Marinette noticed the similarities and felt stupid for not noticing. Her only excuse was that she’d focused a lot more on Chat’s outfit than Ladybug’s.

The saleswoman continued, “It is inspired by the campaign for the new Agreste jewelry line. We also sell their products if you are interested. Our designers have created this dress as a more streamlined, affordable version of the Ladybug dress worn in the photoshoot, one fit for the modern Parisian woman, the hero of her own story."

Immediately Marinette flashed to the picture of Adrien dressed up as a high fashion Chat Noir. Heat flushed across her face. Would it be too dangerous for the real Ladybug to wear the Ladybug inspired dress? She'd just decided to put being Ladybug above everything else in her life. Marinette didn't want to risk that.

Nevertheless, part of her desperately wanted to wear that dress.

Then again, the danger probably wasn't to her identity getting discovered. The danger came from her active imagination pairing her up with Adrien wearing that sinful black suit with his muscled arm curved around her body, casting a gaze of love and devotion towards her and eyes of sharp danger against anyone else who threatened that. It came from her imagining Adrien as Chat and Chat as Adrien, from imagining a man who wanted both Ladybug and Marinette.

Was she crazy to want Adrien and Chat to be the same person? It made her thoughts go slow and heavy and her hearing muffled…. _Because he wasn't._ It was a ridiculous comparison that drifted away like smoke as soon as it formed. Shaking her head, she wiggled her jaw to clear the pressure in her ears and tuned back into her mother's conversation with the saleswoman.

The last thing Marinette needed right now was a relapse back into stammering clumsiness whenever she saw Adrien. Their friendship was the best it had ever been. She refused to risk that friendship or her secret identity for a flight of fancy about something random. Besides, the dress had a price tag much higher than anything else they'd looked at that morning.

"I don't think-" Marinette began regretfully, only to be cut off by her mother thrusting the confection of red fabric into her arms.

"It's perfect. Go try it on," her mother ordered in a tone that told Marinette that resistance was futile. Almond eyes met her blue ones calmly but firmly and Marinette folded under the pressure like a metal chair. She meekly turned to follow the saleswoman into the changing room in the back.

In the privacy of the changing room, she disrobed. Not giving herself time to think, she slid on the sinfully soft scarlet gown and pulled up the zipper. Then she pushed her hair back behind her ear and looked up into the mirror. The woman staring back at her shocked her. Marinette froze as a moment of complete rightness hit her square between the eyes.

"Wow, Marinette, you look absolutely beautiful," she distantly heard Tikki praise.

Lips trembling, Marinette looked at herself and _felt_ beautiful. She felt _complete_. For the first time ever, Marinette looked in a mirror and saw both Ladybug AND Marinette. She saw that the superhero and the girl were one and the same.

Although Tikki had been saying it for years, she'd never really been able to see it herself. She'd never believed. Her self-doubt had always been too strong. Right now, though, the mirror and the dress forced her to see the truth. They really were the same person, someone beautiful and strong. Someone powerful. Marinette felt renewed peace with her decision to devote herself fully to being Ladybug until Hawk Moth was gone. College and fashion would still be there when she was done. So would boys.

Slipping her shoes back on, even though they didn't go with the dress, she stepped out to where her mother and the saleswoman waited. Both ladies' eyes went wide as Marinette stopped in front of them. She still felt flushed from her epiphany. Head held high, Marinette gave them a small, confident smile. She knew she looked amazing.

"Perfect," her mother gasped. "In fact, you look exactly like-," her words cut off as the air became hard to breathe and shimmered, like heat waves off too hot pavement. Marinette felt a jolt as Tikki rocketed out of the dressing room into the small of her back, hiding herself seamlessly into the folds of the red dress.

Then her mother blinked and everything snapped back to normal. "You look beautiful, all grown up." Nodding decisively, she turned to the saleswoman. "We'll take it."

* * *

 

Putting away his comic book, Adrien was grateful Ladybug had insisted he bring it. Without it, he'd be staring out at the passing scenery brooding. Not that he hadn't done some of that, but after the first hour he'd gotten sick of treading the same circle of questions in his mind. The comic had proved a welcome distraction, even if he'd had more luck looking at the artwork than reading the dialog.

The train stopped and the doors opened. Adrien had to transfer trains here at Brussels. He’d missed the direct trip to Amsterdam and hadn’t been willing to wait around for even an hour in the train station in case he was discovered and stopped. The transfer only added an hour or so and gave him a chance to walk around and stretch his legs. The next train would take about two hours and then he'd be able to finally pin down his dad. Hopefully, the surprise would catch Gabriel off guard and loosen his tongue so Adrien could get his answers.

As he wandered the station, he began noticing a group of three guys following him around. Initially he thought himself paranoid. But when he turned into a less crowded hallway, they peeled off from the crowd and followed. Finally he turned around and stared the leader in the eyes, raising a brow in inquiry. The other teen sneered. Adrien raised his chin and narrowed his eyes. He regularly fought super villains and lived with Gabriel Agreste. It took a lot more than some young punk to intimidate him. Especially today. He was not in the mood.

Jerking his head away, the punk and his two friends swaggered away into a coffee shop.

Adrien let out a slow breath. Rolling his shoulders, he walked farther down the concourse. A picture of a triangular man up ahead reminded his bladder that it was full. Adrien checked his watch. He still had twenty minutes before his train started boarding. That was more than enough time. He ducked into the toilet.

As he finished washing his hands, the three kids from before banged into the men's room. Unfortunately, Adrien was alone with them. Looking at the set of their features, Adrien had a sinking feeling. The bathroom was not his preferred choice of fighting arena.

"Well well well, whadda we have here?" the leader asked with mock surprise.

Henchman one with his spiked black hair rocked back and forth on his heels. "Looks like an uppity rich boy," he said when Adrien refused to answer.

"Maybe he's lost," said henchman two. "Are you lost, rich boy? Or jus’ confused?"

"The poor boy prob’ly is confused," the leader said with false concern. "He thinks he kin wander ‘round our station in his designer kit without paying a toll. Tsk tsk." They spread out and completely blocked the exit.

Adrien's eyes darted around, taking everything in. He couldn't transform in front of them, so that left Chat and his powers out. Plagg was currently in his bag, so he couldn't throw or hit them with it and run. He could hold his own against one and maybe even two normal attackers. However, he specialized in fighting one person at a time. Three brawlers would definitely give him trouble, especially in a cramped room like this where he didn't have any weapons. As much as he hated the idea, his best bet was to hit hard and fast, then clear a path to the door and escape.

"Maybe he's stupid, not confused. He sure is quiet enough. Is you stupid or just terrified? You hafta give us a toll either way,” henchman one taunted. They all laughed. “You gonna piss your pants, rich boy?"

"I'm leaving," Adrien said calmly with steel in his voice. Then he took a confident step towards the door, acting like the idea of anything stopping him was unimaginable. At his unexpected response, the young thugs cast nervous looks at their leader and shuffled their feet.

Unfortunately, the leader wasn't so easily sidetracked as his men. "No, you aint. Not without givin’ me that shiny ring o' yours you keep rubbing at. I like it. Give it here _and_ your bag and maybe I'll let you leave without blacking one of those strange green eyes o' yours instead."

Give away his Miraculous ring? Lose it and Plagg to bullies and thieves? Plagg sometimes felt like an annoying cousin you were stuck with, but he was Adrien's annoyance. Not some stranger's. Adrien wouldn't let the kwami be enslaved by some wannabe Hawk Moth. He'd sooner cut off his own finger.

"I said, no. This is a bad idea. Let me leave," Adrien warned them. "This is your last chance."

For a moment the gang quailed. Then their leader puffed out his chest and snorted. "Nice try, rich boy, but I'm not afraid of you whining to your daddy. The one with the last chance was you and you just blew it. Get 'im, boys."

Both henchmen dived forward. The first tried to grab Adrien around the waist. Compared to Adrien’s usual opponents, he moved about as fast as a charging tortoise. Placing a hand on the sink at his back, Adrien leapt up into the air and kneed him in the face with a loud crack. He flew back against the metal wall of the bathroom stall with a metallic clang. Curling sideways, he clutched his head in his arms and groaned piteously.

Before the second henchman’s punch landed, Adrien bent under his swinging arm and tried a leg sweep. The boy blocked it by shifting his stance, then twisted and threw an uppercut. Adrien dodged, but the tip of a ragged fingernail scraped painfully across his chin.

Grabbing the boy by the shoulders of his coat, Adrien twisted and flung him head first into the toilet stall. His head clanked into the metal pipe above the toilet bowl as his groin impacted with the porcelain. Whimpering, he splashed a flailing hand through the bowl, sending a spray of water through the air before he slid down onto the sticky floor. Seconds later, the automatic sensor flushed the toilet.

The flushing distracted Adrien from the sound of his last opponent. A flicker from the corner of his eye made him turn, but too late. The gang leader's clasped fists flew through the air and came down on Adrien's upper back, barely missing the back of his neck. His backpack absorbed some of the blow, but the force still drove Adrien to his knees. Barely able to spare a thought for Plagg, Adrien tried to regain his feet, but couldn't beneath the barrage of attacks that followed. Adrien was a fighter, but not a street brawler. Not like this guy.

Getting desperate, Adrien punched at his groin. His opponent scrambled back, avoiding the hit but giving Adrien room to surge to his feet. Finally up, Adrien charged with his bent arm leading, trying to push him out of the way so he could get out of the narrow bathroom and back to the safety of the open.

Unfortunately, his leading foot landed in a puddle of water and skidded. Adrien went sprawling face first. Before he could recover, the leader grabbed Adrien in a headlock and leaned on his back, trapping him face down on the disgusting floor. Adrien struggled, but couldn't get free as one of the other boys grabbed his arm and twisted it back painfully.

"You're gonna regret messing with us," the leader hissed in Adrien's ear. "We're gonna take the silver ring, your bag, and all your fancy clothes, smash your face in, and leave you trussed up in the pisser. You think you're Chat Noir or somethin’ with your gold hair and fancy lunges and leaps? You're no superhero. You're nothing, rich boy, and we're gonna prove it."

The hand on his arm moved to back to his hand and the finger with the ring on it. Adrien clenched his fist tight and felt a bolt of terror. They had him trapped. He couldn't let them steal his Miraculous ring. He had no choice but to transform.

"Claws o-," he cried, only to have his face smashed into the tile floor before he could finish the phrase.

"What was that, rich boy? I don't wanna hear anything but whimpers of pain or you begging for forgiveness. If that ain’t it, then don't bother saying nothin’." Leaning harder against his back, the leader ground his face into the dirty floor. Meanwhile, the henchman clawed at Adrien’s clenched hand, trying to pry off his ring.

In the midst of his pain and panic, a curious thing happened. Adrien didn't transform into Chat Noir. However, he felt himself almost start to shift. Energy buzzed disconcertingly beneath the surface of his skin, as if trapped. He reached out for the magical power, for something to help save him and his Miraculous. Silently he begged, flinging out desperate, phantom fingers, only to have them abruptly caught in a secure clasp.

Warmth, strength, loyalty, and even love leapt like electricity arching across skin when touching a live wire. The buzzing in his body rose to a fever pitch. Somehow, he knew it came from Ladybug. She suddenly seemed so close, as if crouched over him protectively. He wished she really was here.

Suddenly, a flash of red thumped into his chest and surged across his body. He felt stronger. Yet pain began lapping at the link. Was it him? Or her? He couldn’t risk it being her. He tried to push the red back, but it slipped through is fingers like liquid, refusing to leave. Then he felt a pulse of something that felt like love and the whisper of a thought that this might be her last chance, all bordered by throbbing pain. Panic surged in his mind. She sent a wave to soothing coolness.

Was he imagining this? Was the pain really from her? Or was it just from his own body? Either way, he felt guilty. A ghostly hand caressed his face. He calmed. The red-shifted light of his perception went black. As unexpectedly as it had started, their phantom fingers slid apart.

Popping back to the present, Adrien opened his eyes to a high-pitched buzzing in his body. He felt strong, calm, and lucky. Within seconds, the door to the bathroom popped open. "What the?! Stop! Security! Someone help! Security!" cried an elderly, quavering voice in the doorway.

The bodies pressing him down twitched in surprise. Adrien used the distraction to convulse his body. The hands on him loosened a bit more. Just for a second.

However, that's all he needed. His finger with the Miraculous ring on it had been forced flat and the ring slipped past the second knuckle, but he refused to surrender. Adrien crooked the finger as much as he could and then reared his head back, head-butting the leader in the face with a loud crack. Blood from a broken nose spattered on the floor over his shoulder as the leader fell back with a scream.

The henchman holding his arm made the mistake of turning to his friend. Adrien lunged forward through his loosened grip, grabbed the front of his shirt, and slammed him into the porcelain urinal. Dazed, he didn't get up. The old man at the door cried out at the renewed violence.

Rolling to his feet, Adrien pushed the ring firmly back down onto his finger. Then he ran out of the bathroom past the elderly man holding the door and the gathering crowd of onlookers. Adrien sprinted down the hallway, taking the first turn he came to. Jumping over a balcony, he landed on the platform below with a roll and came to his feet just in time for the train doors in front of him to start sliding closed. With a gasp, he dived through the doors and curled his feet inside just before the door sealed. The few passengers in the car gave him a faint scattering of applause and then proceeded to ignore him.

Grateful for their disinterest, Adrien made his way to the small bathroom between train cars. Sliding into the stall, he securely locked the door. Then he leaned back against the swaying wall as the train took off and blew out a shuddering breath.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open, "Plagg!" Swinging his bag off his back, he ripped open the zipper. "Plagg where are you? Are you okay? Plagg!" he whispered frantically.

"Is it over yet?" a woozy voice asked from behind the cracked wooden box of cheese. Plagg crawled out, holding the box above his head like a shield. "I prefer fights from inside rings, not backpacks, if you're wondering for next time. Thanks for keeping the Miraculous safe, but that was a little too close for me, Fumbles McGirlyfingers. You only kept the ring on by the length of your manicured fingernail!"

"So you're alright?" Adrien asked, ignoring Plagg's whining and insults through long habit as his heart finally started to slow down.

Plagg wiggled all his limbs carefully. Then nodded. "Nothing a little cheese won't fix." Freezing, he looked up at Adrien's face and then abruptly plopped over onto his side pitifully. His paws twitched limply and he winced. "Ohh, it hurts, it hurts. Please, I need the cheese or else I might di-ie," he groaned. His head flopped lifelessly to the side.  After a second, one eyelid peeked open to check on Adrien's reaction.

Huffing out a silent laugh, Adrien didn't bother protesting Plagg's acting. He was too grateful to still have them together and both in one piece. "Well, we certainly don't want that." Opening the cheese box, he handed Plagg a triangle.

While his friend ate (now without a single wince or dragging limb), Adrien turned to the mirror and cleaned himself up. Luckily none of the blood on the side of his head was his. Adrien had some new bruises and a red scrape along his jaw, but considering the damage he'd inflicted on his three attackers, he thought he'd come out of that quite lightly. It could have been a lot worse.

_If it hadn't been for Ladybug…._

"Plagg? Did you feel that too?" Adrien asked.

Shooting him a disgusted look, Plagg rolled his eyes and stuffed the last bite of cheese in his mouth, then spoke while chewing. "I ha' someone try 'n smoosh me inta jam filling for a teen boy san'ich. Course I felt that. Duh."

Ripping off a paper towel, Adrien flung it over Plagg's head as a reminder to clean off the disgusting bits of cheese he spewed in his black fur when he did that.

"Hey!" Plagg protested.

Leaning against the sink, Adrien said, "I wasn't talking about that. I was talking about that surge of luck magic from Ladybug. I've never felt anything like that before."

"Yeah, weird, but cool." Plagg answered as he wiped off his fur and then threw the paper towel carelessly to the floor.

Sighing with annoyance, Adrien crouched down and picked it up by the corner, dumping it into the trash. "You're the age-old kwami, not me. How did the magic work? Was it real?"

Plagg shrugged. "Don't ask me. Tikki's the wise one. I'm just here for the cheese and the shinies. If I had to guess, the stolen magic tethers the two of you in some way. Good thing, huh? Without Ladybug's help, we'd've been toast."

Just then, the intercom interrupted them with an announcement. "Next stop, Tournai."

Rearing back, Plagg looked at the speaker and then at Adrien. "Wait, isn't that in the wrong direction. We’re almost in France again."

Adrien dropped his head into his hands with a groan. "Yes. I was just trying to escape before we got arrested, all right? We'll get off at the next stop and switch trains again." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lately I’m listening to a Florence and The Machine themed song station on Amazon Prime Music while writing. Thank you so much for your comments and support of this story!


	12. Our Light Will Not Be Dimmed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings at end of chapter to avoid major spoilers.

 

Adrien jumped out at a train station only a few minutes later. Luckily he’d landed on a local train with lots of stops. On the platform, a big screen TV on the wall of an inset lounge showed the news and entertained travelers while they waited.

As he waited to catch a new train headed once again towards Amsterdam, his phone rang. Muscles up and down his back clenched. He checked the caller ID.

_Father_

Indecision twisted his insides. He wanted to speak to his father face-to-face. Not over the phone. That’s why he’d started this trip in the first place.

However, if he didn't pick up, his father would probably panic and make a big fuss. He’d call out the police and Adrien’s friends saying he'd gotten kidnapped again or telling everyone Adrien had run away from home. Adrien didn't want to ruin anyone else's Saturday.

_No one’s but his father's, that is._

There was nothing else for it. Reminding himself to keep his temper, he forced himself to answer the call. "What?" Then he winced. Even before his father replied, he knew starting off like that had been a mistake.

"Adrien, is that anyway to talk to your father?" Gabriel scolded. "Nathalie told me that you disappeared from the house hours ago. What is going on?"

"I'd rather not say." Adrien took a few steps away from his fellow travelers to get some privacy. Leaning against the wall, he rubbed his forehead and tried to figure out how to salvage his plan. If he hadn't gotten jumped and taken the wrong train, he'd almost be to his father. Instead, he was only halfway right now.

"That's not an acceptable answer. Would you like to try again?” his father demanded silkily.

Despite it being over the phone, Adrien lifted his chin stubbornly. “No.”

The tone turned dangerous. “I see. Since the GPS I just brought up on your phone shows your location, I know you aren't in Paris anymore. What is going on?" His father over-enunciated the words.

Silently Adrien cursed himself. He'd forgotten about the phone’s GPS. The magic of Chat Noir negated electronics, but travelling as Adrien had made him vulnerable.

Adrien decided to throw himself on the truth and hope for the best. "I need to talk to you, Dad. I'm coming to see you."

His father sighed with disappointment. It had become a familiar sound. "Adrien, travelling by yourself on public transport is ridiculously unsafe, especially for someone like you. You should have just called me or waited for me to return home. Nothing you have to say could be more important than your safety."

"I didn’t want to use the phone. I want to talk to you in person," Adrien mulishly insisted.

"You're being an impulsive child," his father scolded.

Instead of making Adrien feel ashamed, it made him angry. "I'm not a child. I have a good reason for what I'm doing."

His father scoffed. "Really? Then your good reason should be aware that I'm not even in Amsterdam anymore. Right now, I'm travelling in a car. Through Paris."

Adrien froze. "What?" he breathed. Shaking his head sharply in an attempt to toss away his consternation, he insisted, "No, your posted schedule has you in Amsterdam until Monday." But now that he listened, he could hear traffic sounds coming through the phone.

Leather creaked as his father shifted his weight. "If you wanted to know my updated schedule, you should have called me or talked to Nathalie. But I suppose that's too logical for an emotional teenager trying to assert his independence.” His voice snapped. “The production problem proved to be much simpler to fix than they expected, but then again, I am a genius. I flew home this morning. I'll be pulling up to the house any minute."

“Oh.” Frustration and defeat sloshed through Adrien's belly. Instead of confronting his father from a position of strength, he now found himself feeling defensive and scrambling for retreat. He should have known better. Gabriel Agreste always came out on top. Always.

"Your bodyguard is already on the way to you in the car. Stay put until he gets there," his father ordered brusquely.

Straightening his shoulders, Adrien reminded himself why he was doing this. "No, I'll take the train back myself. That’ll be faster. We’ll talk when I get home.”

"About what?" His father sounded exasperated. The sound of a car door opening came through the phone, along with him walking into the house.  "What is so important that it couldn't have waited? What would drive you to take a transcontinental train of all-" his father's voice abruptly cut off.

"Father?" Adrien said cautiously.

"Nathalie just handed me a security photo." His voice dropped into quiet rage, "Does your sudden trip have anything to do with Carolyn Moreau dropping you off in a cab last night?"

For the first time, Adrien was glad not to be in the same room with his father. That voice scared him. Maybe this conversation would be easier over the phone. After all, he could always threaten to disable the GPS and not come home if necessary.

Closing his eyes, Adrien went back to the recent feeling of Ladybug surrounding him with protection and love. She made him feel strong and brave. Adrien flexed his empty fingers, remembering her phantom touch.

Opening his eyes, he let them go unfocused as he spoke words that tore painfully at his throat. Perhaps they always would. "I know Mom's dead. Yesterday, I saw her grave."

His father made a sound like a wounded animal. His voice shook, "You were never meant to see that. How dare she show you that."

Adrien's pain exploded into anger. "How dare she? How dare you?! Were you going to leave me in ignorance forever? Always looking, wondering, and fearing for her? For my mother?"

"I was trying to protect you from getting hurt," his father defended shakily.

"All you did was hurt me!" Adrien shouted into the phone. Several people in the lounge by the TV gave him sharp looks, but he ignored them. "She was _my_ mother! You weren't the only person who loved her, you know."

"Of course I know," his father snapped back, regaining his equilibrium, "but she was _my wife_! You were a child and couldn’t fully understand what was going on. You still can’t. I'm your father, Adrien. I’m doing what I think is best. You have to see the big picture."

Gritting his teeth, Adrien began pacing back and forth to deal with his agitation. "What big picture? Explain it to me. Use small words if necessary. Instead of letting me know she'd had an accident, you left me in uncertainty for years. Instead of letting me visit her, letting me see her alive one last time, letting us be a family, even if a cracked one, I had to find out about mom's life, mental illness, and death from virtual strangers! My father should have done that for me, not them!"

Heavy breathing sounded down the phone. "It wasn’t supposed to take this long or go so badly," he roughly explained. Then his voice got stronger. "I just need a little more time. Then it will all be fixed. It will make sense. "

"Really? How much time? Until I get home? Until next week? Or how about another three years? Or maybe even thirty? She's dead! More time isn't going to fix that!" Exasperated and hurting, Adrien flung out his hand.

His eyes involuntarily followed the motion and became caught on flashing red letters scrolling across the TV on the wall. Everyone on the platform was staring up at it in eerie silence. The hairs on the back of his neck lifted. Adrien drifted closer to read what was going on.

"Adrien, you need to calm down. I'm going to fix this. I know it seems confusing right now, but I will fix everything. I promise. You’re my son. Nothing is more important to me than your safety and well-being. You just need to come home where it’s safe," his dad pleaded.

After a beat of silence, his tone turned demanding, "Adrien, are you listening to me?"

Mouth dry, Adrien licked his lips. "Turn on the TV, dad. Right now."

"Turn on the- what?" He sounded irritated and confused.

"The TV, dad. Turn on the TV," Adrien urged, his tone becoming preoccupied as he read the alarming words scrolling rapidly along the bottom of the screen.

* * *

 

As soon as Marinette’s mother said they’d buy the dress, the saleswoman gave them the quintessential cat wallowing in a bowl of cream smile. Marinette should protest the expense, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She wanted the Ladybug-inspired dress too much.

**_Ka-boom!_ **

Marinette tensed. The entire store shook.  Displays fell over with crashes and voices cried out in shock & fear. Eyes narrowed, Marinette leapt protectively between her mother and the front of the store. She wouldn't let her mother get hurt. Not if she could help it.

Tikki silently squeezed her side. Marinette dropped her fingers back to find her friend tucked near the large ladybug belt buckle like an extra fashion accessory. The reminder of Tikki's support steadied her nerves.

"Not a Super Villain attack in the mall!" wailed the no longer composed saleswoman. Her outburst startled Marinette into pushing her mother a step away from the woman just in case. "I need today's shopping numbers to make this quarter's quota. It's not fair!" Bawling into her hands, she ran behind the desk and banged through the back door into the employees only area. She moved rather fast for a woman in four-inch heels and a tight pencil skirt.

In her haste, Marinette saw the woman crash into a stack of boxes in the back hall and then continue running. The boxes started to fall and break open with thuds and clatters. Then the view disappeared and the sound became muffled as the door banged shut.

"Wait!" Running to the exit, Marinette grabbed the door knob. It twisted, but the door wouldn’t open more than a centimeter or two. She banged on the door and then shoved, but it seemed blocked. “Come back! You have to help my mom and me escape!” The saleswoman didn't return despite Marinette’s shouting.

Firming her lips, Marinette wrote the door off as a lost cause and abandoned it bitterly. "We need to get you out of here, mom." Grimly she grabbed her mother's wrist and dragged her to the front of the store. Chaotic crowds of terrified people ran for the exits. The swish of Marinette's skirt and fluttering sleeves tickled distractingly against her skin. Now she wished she still had her pants and jacket on.

" _Both_ of us need to get out of here," her mother insisted anxiously, twisting her arm to clasp hands, "but those crowds don't look safe."

At least Marinette couldn't see Hawk Moth’s newest Supervillain outside, whichever one had caused the explosion. Nevertheless, the mob running towards the stairs and escalators in a panic looked dangerous enough on its own for two short women. Marinette felt confident she could manage it on her own. However, her mother would never let her go out on her own.

At this point, the walkway seemed like their only option. She had to go along and get her mother to safety as quickly as possible. Only then could she make up an excuse to separate and come back to fight the supervillain as Ladybug. Every minute she delayed meant more destruction and people in danger. She couldn’t afford to wait.

Making sure she had a firm grip on her mother's hand, Marinette ordered, "We're going to have to risk it. Let's go."

“Alright, just be careful and don’t let go of me,” her mother cautioned before bravely lifting her chin and squeezing their clasped hands.

As they dove into the fleeing mob, Marinette was sharply reminded of just how small her mother and she were compared to most Parisians. She couldn't see the exit over the tall, heaving shoulders and sharp elbows on every side. They had to trust in the momentum of the crowd to lead them to safety. It felt claustrophobic and rather horrible.

Then a large woman in a panic roughly shoved between them to force her way to the front. The force of the push broke the grip of their hands. Marinette watched in horrified slow motion as her mother's slight body went flying. Everything in her head went quiet except for the sound of her mother's voice crying out in panic as she went sprawling onto the floor. Then both sight and sound disappeared behind the stomping legs of the panicked mob.

"Mom!" Screaming in protective rage, Marinette leapt forward. With her dress flaring red in the corner of her eye, she forgot that she wasn't actually transformed. However, she didn't need super powers to save her mother.  Wielding elbows, fists, feet, and even a couple of head-butts, Marinette fought indiscriminately against the mindless crowd. The red dress flowed with her movements and left her limbs free to attack. Despite not having Ladybug’s advantages, Marinette’s ferocity quickly cleared a space around her mother's prone body. The mob flinched back, fearfully detouring around the fierce figure in red and the Chinese woman at her feet.

At the first break, Marinette spun down and scooped her mother's arm over her shoulder, hauling her up to her feet and dragging her towards the exit doors ahead. From the corner of her eye she saw her mother's face, red and swollen with blood trickling down her cheek from a cut on her brow, staring dazedly at her daughter as if looking at a stranger. It made Marinette's heart hurt, but she couldn't concentrate on that right now. She had to get her mother out.

Unfortunately, the stairwells and escalators to the lower levels had become bottlenecks. The crowd's momentum slowed and stalled. Marinette felt angry. _How dare this mob injure her mother? How dare they panic so badly after three years of Supervillain attacks? Shouldn’t they be used to it? Hadn't they learned how to exit in a calm and rational manner by now?_

Not to mention that at this rate, she was going to be late for a fight again and earn Chat’s disappointed face. She hated that face. Even his amused-by-my-own-bad-joke smirk was better than that. 

Abruptly she remembered that Chat Noir was out of town. Ladybug had to fight this one on her own. Marinette’s nerves wavered, but then she clutched at the strength of her anger to steady her resolve. She couldn't take it out on her fellow Parisians, but she didn't have to hold back with Hawk Moth's newest creation once she found them. Ladybug would take this villain down who dared attack a mall with her mother in it. And if she accidentally hit them too hard, well, the Miraculous Ladybug spell would fix the damages later.

Just as they passed an alcove with a couch and potted plant, another explosion rocked the Beaugrenelle Paris Mall. It came from the top level. Her eyes snapped up to see the central stained glass ceiling she'd so admired shatter. Marinette flinched as shards of jewel-colored glass rained onto the screaming crowds below. The people on the walkway scattered in a panic.

As Marinette turned her head, she saw a shadow in the corner of her eye. She reacted. Planting her feet, she twisted and heaved her mother away from her body and into the safety of the alcove. Hopefully she’d land on the softness of the couch, but Marinette didn’t have time to check.

Dropping to the ground, she rolled frantically towards the nearest wall. Sharp debris sliced into her skin and something gouged a white-hot line of agony across the back of her thigh. When her body banged into what she hoped was the wall, she curled herself into a ball, covered her head, and waited for the hailstorm of debris to stop.

Finally the world stopped shaking, though the air echoed with cries and sobs. Particles of dust clouded the air. Her body hurt, but months of getting injured as Ladybug had taught her how to breathe through the pain and get herself moving again. Marinette allowed herself a single, pain-fueled whine of indulgence. Then she uncurled and pushed herself forcefully to her knees.

Suddenly she remembered her friend. "Tikki?" she cried frantically, patting along her belt for the familiar lump of her friend. “Are you alright?”

"I'm here," Tikki answered breathlessly. She crawled out and patted herself down, causing poofs of dust to fall from her red body. "A bit squished, but I'm okay. What about you?"

"Hanging in there," Marinette shrugged. At least all her limbs still worked and she didn’t have a head injury. Those sucked.

Looking around at the devastation, she saw metal grating, glass shards, and splintered panels surrounding her on the walkway. The floor above must have partially collapsed onto her level, though it looked mostly undamaged on the other side of the open courtyard. Even though the stairway was less than twenty feet away, rubble made it inaccessible. Debris also completely covered the alcove she'd thrown her mother into. Hawk Moth's attacks had truly escalated to a catastrophic level. This amount of damage was insane.

"Marinette? Marinette! Where are you, baby?! Marinette!" Her mother's muffled voice screamed from behind the wall of debris.

"Mom!" Marinette shouted back, feeling guilty that she hadn’t reassured her mother more quickly. "I'm here, Mom. I'm coming." Using the wall to lever herself up to her feet, she staggering for a second and then made her way over to where the alcove's entrance used to be.

Patches of wetness darkened the already red fabric of her dress. _Some of it could be sweat_ , she thought hopefully. Mocking her optimism, the back of her thigh burned with each step and she felt hot blood trickling down the cold skin of her calf.

Marinette had to ignore the pain for now, no matter how unpleasant. It wasn’t fatal and she had other people to worry about. "Are you okay in there?"

"Thank God," her mother's voice sobbed. "I'm alright. Luckily I landed under the couch and it protected me. I just don't think I can get out of here on my own. There's a security door in the wall, but it's locked. The debris has blocked off everything else."

Then her mother's voice turned hard and strident, "Where did you learn to fight like that? And why did you throw me? You should have gotten in here with me! Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, don't worry," Marinette said thickly, pausing for a second to spit blood out of her mouth from where she'd accidentally bitten her cheek. It landed on the floor in a scarlet spatter that, along with the metallic taste trickling down the back of her throat, made her queasy. She didn't have time to be sick, though, so she forced herself to ignore it. "Mom, I'm going to get you out of there. I promise."

Looking around, she realized that they'd ended up right between the mall’s pizza parlor and videogame store. Back in junior high, she used to come here with her dad to browse for new fighting games. Then they'd eat the mediocre-yet-somehow-still-delicious pizza. Right now, though, the strong smell of garlic didn't help with her nausea. Marinette swallowed hard.

Hopefully a transformation would help. She could hear people crying and groaning nearby, but a piece of debris blocked her from view. It would have to do.

"Tikki?" she whispered.

The red kwami floated up to land on her shoulder. Reaching out gently, Tikki wiped the blood off of Marinette's chin. "I'm so proud of you, Marinette. You can do this. I believe in you."

Releasing a shuddering breath, Marinette gave Tikki a grateful nod. "Spots on." A sweet rush of strength filled her body and steadied her stomach as her Miraculous earrings transformed her into Ladybug.

"Marinette? I didn't catch that. What are you doing?" her mother called out anxiously.

"Trying to get you out of there. Step into the back of the alcove," Ladybug ordered, flexing her fingers inside their gloves.

Grabbing the edge of a piece of metal walkway, she pulled. It groaned in stress and shifted a couple of inches before getting stuck against something out of sight in the ceiling. A cascade of small debris sprinkled onto the floor and over her arms, but she ignored it and kept heaving. Yet no matter how much she pulled, or how loud the wall groaned, it wouldn't open enough to get her mother out.

Tears of frustration streamed down her cheeks. Finally she had to admit defeat. Ladybug desperately missed Chat. She needed his cataclysm. She also needed a joke and a hug, but he wasn't here and he wouldn't be coming. _Why did she tell him that leaving would be fine? Why couldn’t he have gone out of town next week? Of all the bad luck._

"Marinette? How's it going?" her mother asked in a thin tone of voice.

Gulping in a breath, she stepped back and flexed her sore fingers. "I can't get it to move," she admitted guiltily. "I'm going to go for help. If you hear anyone through that locked door in the back, bang on it so they'll know you're in there and get you out. Meanwhile, stay against the back wall in case something else happens to shift things in front of the alcove." Of course, it was Ladybug's job to make sure no more explosions happened to shift that debris.

"No!" her mother protested fearfully. "It's not safe. We don't know what's going on or who’s out there. Stay here where I can hear you, Marinette. Please."

"I can't, mom," Marinette said thickly, pushing down tears. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Turning, she forced herself to walk away from her mother's pleading voice. Even with her Ladybug suit, she walked with a slight limp from the wound in her thigh. Blood trickled down into her boot and made her foot feel tacky. Perhaps she should have tried to bind it up before transforming, but it was too late now. She'd know for next time.

Around the corner, she found people sprawled on the walkway like a basket of dolls upended on the floor. Some of them weren't moving. Seeing all of the blood, black fogged the edges of her vision. _What was going on?!_ _How could Hawk Moth be so vicious?_

Unfortunately, she had neither the supplies nor the training to help these people. All she could do was defeat the person behind this and use her Miraculous Ladybug to undo all of the damage. Then these people would be okay and her mother would be okay. _They had to be._

Ladybug would focus on that like a talisman.

Down below in the center of the mall, directly beneath the broken skylight, she finally saw the Supervillain appear. He walked out into the middle of the empty courtyard, put his hands on his hips, and looked around with a disturbing smile. He began pontificating to someone on the ground, but she couldn’t see or make out his words clearly.

Somehow, she'd expected something different. Usually her foes wore bright colors and strange outfits, but the short man below wore only a bulky black trench coat and a dark green hat. In his left hand he clutched a rectangular wand of some sort. His right hand was hidden down by his leg. The akuma was probably in one of his hands or the bulky coat. Her instincts bet on the wand, even though she couldn't see his other hand.

Nevertheless, nothing looked like the strange and almost artistic weapons she usually saw during fights. Ladybug wasn't sure what the wand did or what had caused the damage and explosions so far. It made her uneasy. Although she'd prefer to have more information on her opponent before launching an attack, she couldn't afford to waste more time, not with her mom trapped in an unstable alcove, no Chat Noir to back her up, and a wounded leg. Not with all of these injured people.

"Lucky Charm," she called quietly. A red baseball covered in black spots dropped into her outstretched fingers. She didn't know how she'd use it yet, but she'd figure it out. Ladybug always did.

Blowing out her breath in a steady stream, she flung out her yoyo, tugged once to make sure it was caught securely in the damaged infrastructure, and then swung out to drop down in front of the Supervillain.

"Your luck just ran out," Ladybug announced confidently as she straightened up. Her yoyo swung in circles around one clenched fist. "I won't let you hurt anymore people."

Shocked, the man's ranting abruptly cut off. Then he produced a strange laugh. "There is no luck, but if there was, the good fortune is all mine. I didn't come for you, Ladybug, but perhaps this is fitting. Maybe I need you here with me. Maybe that will hasten the work. Thank you." 

Confused, Ladybug took a careful step back and examined her surroundings. Something was definitely wrong. He should be demanding her Miraculous on behalf of Hawk Moth, not thanking her. The man had a pale, thin face and skinny legs. It made her realize that the bulk of his chest beneath the coat must be artificial. The unnerving look in his dilated gray eyes made the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

"What are you talking about?" she asked carefully as her Miraculous gave its first threatening beep. She needed to use the Lucky Charm soon.

"This city is rotten. Too bad I only have one more bomb left, but maybe by taking you out here, it will be enough. Paris needs to be cleansed. That's its fate." The corners of his creepy gray eyes crinkled in an insane grin as he flipped open his coat to reveal a vest covered in bulky squares and wires. He flourished his hands toward her, revealing the wand to actually be an electronic switch. He held a gun in the other. The deadly weapon had been hidden by in the folds of his coat. "I'm having fun today. It's a real thrill to finally be doing this after all my planning. I'm glad you're with me. I've always wanted to see if Ladybug breaks as easily as everyone else. Today, I'll prove it. Luck is nothing, you are nothing compared to me, to my work."

Suddenly all of the clues clicked into place and her perception tilted. Her vision did a queasy spin and her yoyo dropped limply to her side. This wasn't one of Hawk Moth's minions created through dark magic. This was an actual _terrorist_ , an insane and homicidal man who’d set off two bombs in a shopping mall and had a third strapped to his chest.

Ladybug was completely out of her depth.

Abruptly she noticed the unnaturally still body of a security guard sprawled on the ground behind the terrorist in a pool of dark red. The terrorist must have been ranting at him. _Could her magic fix death?_ She didn't know.

_What had she gotten herself into?_

Horrified, her eyes swung back to the terrorist in front of her. His eyes had followed her gaze. He met her appalled look with amused smugness. His face held no remorse for the pain and destruction he'd caused, only glee and anticipation at causing more. She didn't know what she could possibly say to change his mind. He was a true monster, more evil than anyone she'd ever met. It made her want to run away and hide like a child under the bed.

Terror flooded her body and made her fingers shake. Those explosions had been real bombs. All those people were really hurt. She and her mother could really die here. _Would Miraculous magic be enough?_

Breathing in and out carefully, she focused on the feeling of her lungs expanding and contracting in her chest and forced her panic down. Didn’t Alya always tease her that she was incapable of saying no? Ladybug couldn't run. The people here needed her protection. Her mother needed her. Her father wouldn’t survive on his own. It didn't matter if her foe was supernatural or not. She _had_ to save everyone. It was what she did, who she was. A cool wave of purpose steadied her mind.

"You're wrong about Luck and about Paris." Ladybug’s voice started out unsteady, but ended in a passionate declaration that rang through the broken courtyard. Scared eyes watched her from the shadows of the surrounding stores and balconies, bolstering her resolve. "Your heart may be rotten and dirty and sad, but this city is full of good people, of innocents, of beauty and goodness."

He scoffed, but she ignored him.

"There are some who have lost their way in the dark, but Paris is full of luck and light to guide them back like stars in the night. Our light will not be dimmed by monsters." She was a heroine. It didn't matter if he ignored her words. The message shored up Marinette's soul, reminded her why Ladybug fought. Her earrings beeped softly, urging her on. "I am Ladybug and I will protect these people. I will not let the light go out."

"There is no light here, Ladybug," he snarled, gnashing his teeth at her words. "I am in charge today and I bring darkness and chaos!"

Despite his intentions, his words caused a smile to twitch her lips and filled her with warm resolve. "Chaos? You? As if," Ladybug shot back with disdain. "I am intimately acquainted with Chaos and you aren't fit to lick Chat Noir's boots. Luck and Chaos protect Paris together. No matter what you or anyone else does, they'll always protect Paris. In the face of that, evil is powerless. You are powerless."

Abruptly, she felt a strange pull behind her sternum, as if fingertips had barely latched on in desperate need. Time became thick and slow. Her vision went fuzzy. Reaching down, she grabbed the phantom hand.

When she blinked her eyes shut, she saw familiar green eyes and a flash of silver. Eyes opening, she saw the terrorist frozen mid-sneer. Eyes closed again, she saw darkness pressing down on Chat Noir, the shadows dulling the silver glint of his Miraculous ring and staining his gold and green into monochrome decay. He faced imminent destruction. Chat needed more luck to escape. It was completely unrelated to her current danger and a dangerous distraction, but Ladybug could no more abandon him than she could abandon Paris.

Instinctively she pulled out a piece of her magic and shoved. It caused a moment of bright agony that faded to a dull throb, like breaking a rib out of her chest and boomeranging it into Chat. A black blob caught the streak of red luck and pressed it into Chat Noir as a weapon and shield.

For a moment, her red threaded across his black. Ladybug felt Chat's shock as he recognized her touch. Distance disappeared and she swore she could feel herself curled around and over him in a protective and possessive embrace. A surge of wonder and unfiltered adoration passed through their minds.

She wanted more, wanted to be closer, but then a flash of her body's external weakness and pain seeped into her consciousness and rattled their connection. She tried to hide it, but their minds were too intertwined. Chat's mind became still. Then he started to uncoil dangerously, reaching out for her, stubbornly trying to push her magic back. Refusing it, she sent him a pulse of love, because she couldn't help herself and didn't know if she'd get another chance. He caught her trailing thought and began to panic. But he would be safe now, that's what mattered. She tried to sooth him. Guilt and confusion trickled through from his side. Then she snapped back into herself as her magic finished dissolving into his. Their connection thinned and broke.

Ladybug's eyes opened. Time snapped back into place with a painful jolt. It took more willpower than she expected to keep her shoulders from sagging. For the first time, her suit felt unexpectedly flimsy and coarse when normally it felt thick and smooth. When she flexed her fingers, a small hole appeared at the base of her thumb, revealing pale pink skin. She swallowed hard, feeling vulnerable and alone. Yet she didn't have time for weakness. Right now, Paris needed Ladybug and every drop of magic she had left.

* * *

 

"Alright, I've turned the TV on. What did you- Oh." Adrien’s father's annoyance dropped into tense understanding. "Two bombs have gone off at the Beaugrenelle Paris Mall. It must be terrorists. It’s not Hawkmoth. They’ll probably shut down the trains coming into Paris in case of more attacks. Your bodyguard will be there as soon as possible in the car. Don’t come back without him. I can’t have you hurt. He’ll keep you safe. Stay on the phone with me until he gets there," his father ordered as fear and stress made his voice turn strident.

On the TV, two Parisian news anchors reported on the bombing. Nadja Chamack kept tucking a strand of short red hair back behind her ear, but otherwise kept her composure. Her bald cohost looked shakier. He usually hosted gameshows and competitions with a wide grin. Today, his face looked completely somber and his dusky skin had gone pale.

Suddenly, Madam Chamack touched her earpiece to receive a live report. Looking straight into the camera, she spoke, “We have eye-witness video from inside the mall. It was recorded about twenty minutes ago and is not live. Viewer discretion is strongly advised. We’re going to it now.”

The screen switched to a blurry video. The person filming crouched on one of the upper levels of the damaged mall. Holding their camera, they cautiously lifted it over the railing and pointed it down towards the courtyard to reveal a nondescript white man standing in the center with a bomb strapped to his chest. The terrorist was talking to someone with a sneer on his face. "This city is rotten. Too bad I only have one more bomb left, but maybe by taking you out here, it will be enough. Paris needs to be cleansed. That's its fate."

Then the video zoomed out to reveal the debris-filled courtyard and a fuzzy figure dressed in red. The image sharpened and black polka-dots came into focus on a red suit. It was Ladybug, staring down the terrorist.

Adrien's lungs froze in his chest.

Ladybug was alone. She was facing down a man with a bomb. They’d defeated dozens of magical villains together, but in all their fights, they'd never faced man-made weapons like bombs or guns. Not to mention, this time she'd have to finish the fight all by herself. The video wasn’t even live and Chat was much too far away to get there in time to do anything useful.

As he watched, the terrorist tipped his head arrogantly to the side. “I've always wanted to see if Ladybug breaks as easily as everyone else." As the threats continued, the crowd around the TV muttered in fear, anger, and dismay.

The voice buzzing in Adrien’s ear was annoying and unimportant compared to the action on the screen. "We’ll talk later," Adrien whispered brokenly, hanging up on his father mid-word and dropping the phone into his pocket. Then he pushed his way into the watching crowd.

On the TV, Ladybug seemed very small compared to the destruction surrounding her. Nevertheless, she stood tall and confident as she spoke. A shaft of sunlight fell through the broken skylight, bringing out sapphire highlights in her black hair and making her blue eyes look like the heart of a flame. "You're wrong about Luck and about Paris." Ladybug declared. The terrorist’s face twisted in disbelief, but Ladybug was uncowed. "There are some who have lost their way in the dark, but Paris is full of luck and light to guide them back like stars. Our light will not be dimmed by monsters. I am Ladybug and I will protect these people. I will not let the light go out."

Adrien's heart swelled with pride for Ladybug. The terrorist’s reply was weak and cliché. Adrien hadn’t thought he could love Ladybug more, but then she laughed at the terrorist’s claim on chaos and invoked Chat Noir’s name. His adoration swelled even larger. He reminded himself to tease her about telling the world of their ‘intimate acquaintance’ later. As it was, the words were looping happily in the back of his head.

The crowd around the TV cheered as she finished her speech. “Luck and Chaos protect Paris together. No matter what you or anyone else does, they'll always protect Paris. In the face of that, evil is powerless. You are powerless."

* * *

 

Ladybug found herself staring at the terrorist once more, her connection to Chat Noir lost like smoke in fog.

The terrorist’s pale eyes locked on hers. He turned his head and spit to the side. "You’re wrong. I have the power.” With a flourish, he lifted his arm into the air and waved the switch in his white-knuckled hand. Baring his teeth, he hissed, “And I’ll prove it!" Then his fingers relaxed their tight grip on the bomb's trigger. The handle began to swing open like the wings of a deadly black butterfly.

But Ladybug had experience fighting black butterflies.

In that instant, before his fingers could completely open and release the trigger, Ladybug called on all of her remaining luck and lunged forward. Fabric ripped and her wounded thigh almost gave out beneath the strain, but it held long enough for her to send the spinning yoyo flying through the air. The cord wrapped tightly around his fingers, binding them tightly to the trigger until his hand resembled a cocoon with a deadly butterfly trapped inside, one she refused to let take flight.

Shocked, the terrorist screamed in rage and shook his hand roughly. He raked at the yoyo string with the hand still holding his gun, desperately trying to release the switch. However, despite his frantic efforts, he couldn't activate the bomb's trigger.

A fierce and triumphant grin split Ladybug's face. Her binding was too strong. She'd done it!

But then ice gray eyes full of fury slashed across her face. They narrowed in hate. In one swift movement, he raised the gun in his hand and fired.

Ladybug tried to twist away, but her luck was running thin and she was tired. The harsh impact of the bullets flung her through the display window at her back with a shattering crash. People screamed. White lightning shot through her as everything seized up in agony.

* * *

 

Watching Ladybug’s defiant speech on the TV, Adrien couldn’t help but join his voice to the cheering spectators in the train station. It almost felt like a watching a football game. The shouting increased when she used her yoyo to stop the terrorist from setting off his bomb.

Their cheers, however, quickly turned to cries of horror when the terrorist lifted his gun and fired straight at Ladybug.

"No!" Adrien screamed, reaching out a hand as if to physically catch her as Ladybug's red figure flew back from the impact of the bullet and disappeared out of frame.

The person holding the cell phone also cried out in denial. The video jerked and dropped over the balcony, sending the picture spinning until the phone cracked against the floor of the courtyard and went black.

* * *

 

Ladybug heard the terrorist chuckling with insane glee as he walked closer. “Not so lucky now, are you?” he mocked.

Her right shoulder and arm didn't seem to be working, her thigh throbbed, her head was screaming, and her suit felt wet, sticky, and full of rents. However, her left hand still convulsively clutched her lucky charm. At least she still had that.

"Ladybug? Please be okay. You have to get up. We need you! Please, Ladybug. Please!" cried a desperate female voice.

Forcing her eyes to open, Ladybug turned her head. A dark-haired girl crouched nearby behind a rack of clothing. Her nametag said KENZA. Tears trickled down the girl’s cheeks. “Please, Ladybug,” Kenza begged.

Ladybug had to respond. Rolling up onto her knees took monumental effort. Pain sparked through her body like the excruciating shock of touching a live wire. Everything faded out into a white buzz. Then reality popped back into place with a crunch. She heard a high-pitched whimpering. It took a second to realize that the sound came from her own throat.

Black spots swarmed her vision like ants from a kicked-over hive, clearing only to reveal the terrorist's flushed face and spittle-flecked mouth standing in front of the broken display window. "Why aren't you dead!?" he screamed as their eyes met. He’d become completely unhinged.

Ladybug's earrings beeped their final warning and she knew that this was it. Her final chance. Without her suit and magic, she would die. They'd all die.

The terrorist pointed his gun at the bomb strapped to his chest and sent her a glare. "If a gun can't kill you, maybe a bomb finally will," he snarled. "Say goodbye to Paris, Ladybug."

Ladybug launched herself into motion with a broken cry. With all of her remaining strength and the last of her luck, she threw the red baseball in her left hand. The ball hit the terrorist in the shoulder and knocked him back, jarring his arm just enough that the bullet went high and skidded across his temple and scalp instead of impacting on the bomb. His eyes rolled up in his head and his body thudded backwards onto the ground. Despite the head wound, his chest still rose with each breath. No explosion followed.

Letting out a sobbing breath, Ladybug blinked numbly and swayed. She’d won. She should be celebrating, but right now, she just felt overwhelmed. Her body slowly started to crumple forward.

Kenza ran out from behind her in the store. Instead of disappearing through the nearest exit, she raced over to the terrorist and kicked the gun out of his hand. Then she scooped something up off the ground and came sprinting back.

Ladybug's head dropped, no longer strong enough to stay upright. She saw gaping holes in her suit and blood dribbling down to join the red spatters on the floor. Only inertia and the splay of her knees on the floor kept her body upright. Her vision tunneled. Tears trickled from her eyes, leaving warm trails down her cold cheeks.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her hand and folded it tightly around the baseball. "Quickly, do your Miraculous Ladybug," Kenza demanded urgently. "I don't think you'll survive without it. Please, Ladybug. I'll help. One, two, three."

Hand cupped firmly around hers, Kenza lifted Ladybug's powerless arm and helped her toss the ball lightly into the air. Just before it thumped onto the floor, Ladybug forced the words out on a single, slurring wheeze, "Mira'lus Lay'bu’."

A swarm of magical ladybugs flickered into existence. They looked more maroon than their usual scarlet, but the air still sparkled as they spread out through the ruined mall. Instead of filling the air, they swarmed the injured people. The downed security guard she’d believed dead suddenly groaned and rolled over, clutching at his side. People began rushing for the exits. The pain in her body dulled slightly, but it didn’t go away. Then all her Ladybugs disappeared. Through watering eyes, she saw with disappointment that most of the mall’s destruction remained. Her magic hadn’t fixed everything.

Something beeped. Ladybug's Miraculous power abruptly gave out as she transformed. What little strength she'd hoarded completely disappeared. The pain in Marinette's broken body attacked her nerves in a vicious tattoo. Falling to the floor, unable to even catch herself, she cried out in agony. Her twisted body convulsed as muscles seized and her lungs tried to expel themselves from her body with harsh, hacking coughs. The ragged gauze of her Ladybug dress fluttered up and stuck to the blood smeared across her face. Marinette couldn't breathe; there was too much pressure on her lungs. It felt like she had knives stabbing through her shoulder and twisting. Eyes squeezed shut, her hands scrabbled weakly at the floor, trying to find something to cling onto. The pain was too much.

"Please don’t die," Tikki sobbed weakly in her ear, but Marinette didn't have the strength to open her eyes to reassure her friend.

At least her mother and Chat Noir were safe. She'd protected the people she loved and saved Paris. For once, she hadn't been late. Plus, Marinette would go down dressed like Ladybug. She liked the symmetry of that. Then jagged jaws gaped wide and ruthlessly bit through her thready consciousness, dragging her down into the dark. All her luck was spent.

* * *

 

On a TV screen in a train station outside Brussels, Chamack returned after a burst of static. "What happened on the video looks grim, but things aren’t over yet. Remember that nothing keeps Ladybug down for long. As soon as we find out anything, we’ll let you know. Until then, stay safe and don't panic. As Ladybug said, Paris will never let the light go out."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a terrorist attack and graphic violence. None of this is based on real events or people. 
> 
> For my own amusement, I cast the characters with real life actors. YMMV. See my Indygodusk tumblr for pictures.   
> Marinette: Kelsey Chow  
> Adrien: Burkely Duffield  
> Gabriel Agreste: Sean Bean  
> Dr. Carrie Moreau (OC): Bette Midler  
> Kenza Bey (OC): Shiri Appleby  
> Jihenne Bey (OC): Leila Hadioui  
> Prof. Adrien Ogbore (OC): Idris Elba


	13. The Earrings Come Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The email notification never went out for chapter 12. Don’t read this if you didn’t read 12 yet or you’ll be very confused and spoiled!

 

Adrien felt his world turn to ash.

Turning, he stumbled away from the crowd surrounding the television and slammed into the nearest bathroom. Adrien forced himself to cursorily check that the room was empty. Then he grabbed the zipper of his backpack with two hands and ripped it open to expose Plagg. "Claws out. Now."

Magic buzzed across his body, leaving Chat Noir in Adrien's place. The second the transformation stabilized, he pulled out his baton and tried to call Ladybug. "Come on, come on," he chanted anxiously under his breath.

The baton screen stayed dark.

Shaking it sharply in his fist, Adrien tried calling again. It didn't ring at all, just showed a blinking green paw. Hanging up, he whacked it against the back wall and then tried once more. This time, he focused on the feel of his magic and pushed it through his clawed fingertips into the baton as he pressed the call button. The screen flashed once and dots appeared, as if trying to go through. It gave him a spurt of hope. Then the screen went dark again. Adrien couldn't get it to do even that again. The call just wouldn’t connect.

Clutching his black-gloved hands in his hair, he pulled roughly and tried to think of something else to do. He had to help Ladybug somehow. Yet he was a hundred and fifty miles away from Paris. The trains had shut down, he couldn't drive a car even if he knew how to hotwire one, and travel by bouncing baton would take several hours.

Ladybug needed him now, but he was powerless to do anything. Ripping free his hands from his hair, he punched the wall hard, sending chunks of plaster splashing into the nearest toilet. His heavy breathing echoed ominously in the empty bathroom.

Admitting defeat, he transformed back into Adrien. "Plagg," he cried, snatching the black kwami out of the air. "I can't call Ladybug. What's going on?"

Unusually serious green eyes met Adrien’s. "I'm sorry."

"What do you mean, sorry?" Adrien hissed through gritted teeth, trying to brace himself.

Plagg looked away and tugged on one ear uncomfortably. "I can’t reach her. There’s not enough luck magic left for me to connect to.”

Adrien exhaled hard and hunched over. The words felt like a punch in the chest and he couldn’t catch his breath. His fingers spasmed and sprang open.

“That doesn't mean she's dead!" Plagg rushed to say, floating up to hover in front of his face. "Maybe she's just weaker than usual or- or focusing all of her magic on something else."

"Right,” Adrien managed to pull air back into his burning lungs. “But why would she be magically weak?” An answer jumped to mind as soon as he vocalized the thought. Guilty, he asked, “Is it because of your spell?"

Whiskers drooping, Plagg folded his arms unhappily. "Maybe. The extra whammy she sent us earlier today didn't help either."

Adrien dipped down so Plagg couldn't escape his eyes. "Then send it back. Give her our magic too, give her as much as she needs!"

"I can't," Plagg's voice cracked. "We're chaos. Our magic doesn't work that way. If I tried to force Chaos magic on her and she's really hurt, it could actually make things worse."

Chewing on his lip, Adrien tried to think of something useful. "Can you at least tell if she’s just distracted or actually hurt?"

Reaching out, Plagg unexpectedly brushed a hand down Adrien's cheek. "Her kwami, Tikki, is alive. That's all I know. However, as long as Tikki's there, so is luck. No matter how big or small, that luck is on Ladybug's side. Don't despair yet, alright?"

Adrien pressed his lips tight and forced himself to nod. The mirrors on the wall reflected the despair he didn’t want to surrender to. He wanted to hope for the best. Unfortunately, this week hadn’t given his hopes much traction.

Right now, his imagination was more of an enemy than a friend. Ducking his head, he helped Plagg back into the backpack. Then he carefully focused on cracking the seal on a triangle of cheese to give to his friend. He’d tried not to think about anything else.

As Adrien left the bathroom, he felt his phone buzz. He pulled it out, but only saw seven missed calls and messages from his father. The newest text showed up as a preview: “ _I’ll do whatever it takes._ ” Adrien ignored it. Instead, he shot off a text to his bodyguard, ordering him to text Adrien the minute the car reached the train station.

Then he took up vigil against the wall in the back of the TV lounge and tensely settled in to wait for more news. Adrien would keep on believing in Ladybug. After all, he was powerless to do anything else.

* * *

 

Blood pooled beneath the broken body of the girl who had been Ladybug.

Kenza Bey knelt by her side and felt helpless. She tried to distract herself with the pain in her hand from where the edges of her employee badge bit into her palm, leaving red lines. The sharp pin on her badge stuck out between her fingers as a makeshift weapon. She knew it was stupid, but she couldn’t let it drop. As if a little pin could protect her from a terrorist with a bomb and gun. Even when she'd run out there to kick away his gun and grab Ladybug's Lucky Charm, she hadn't let the badge drop from her hand, prepared to stab the terrorist if he so much as twitched.

Now it was over and her crazy burst of courage had disappeared. Kenza had thought that if she could just help Ladybug throw up her Lucky Charm, everything would be fixed, that Ladybug would be fixed. However, Ladybug's magic had barely fixed anything. That had never happened before, but then again, Ladybug had never taken on a terrorist before either.

Even more shocking, the larger-than-life superhero had disappeared, leaving behind a bleeding girl. She looked normal, only a few years older than Kenza. She also looked fragile and broken.

Kenza didn't know what to do. She wished her mother was here right now to hug her and make her feel safe. Jihenne Bey would know how to fix this. That or know who to call instead. Of course, Kenza had been stupid and lost her phone again, so now she couldn’t even call her mother for advice, much less the paramedics or police. She wanted to curl into a ball and hide, but she couldn't.

The bleeding girl needed her help.

Unfortunately, Kenza couldn't get her fear to just shut off. On the one hand, the crazy man with the bomb was still less than twenty feet away. On the other hand, he'd shot himself in the head and wasn’t moving. He couldn't hurt anyone right now. She really had no reason to be scared anymore. Yet her body still didn't want to move.

Suddenly, a small, red, feline fairy crawled out from beneath the girl’s body. It had an oversized head decorated with black spots. The fairy dragged herself weakly up onto Ladybug's shoulder. She looked like a doll that belonged in Kenza’s little sister Leila’s bed, not on the shoulder of a fallen superhero.

"Please don’t die," the small red figure sobbed brokenly, leaning her cheek against her friend.

The desperation in that high-pitched voice finally broke through Kenza's fear. Her fingers uncurled, dropping her useless badge onto the ground. "Can I help?" she asked the small red fairy, purpose slowly bubbling up to steady her limbs. "I'm Kenza. I work here. Please, let me help."

Large eyes full of pain and wisdom looked up at Kenza. "Thank you. I'm Tikki," the red fairy said. "Marinette's still bleeding and having trouble breathing. Also, I need cookies, as many as you can find. We might not be out of danger yet.” An expression full of fear and despair pulled down on her lips, “A black butterfly might be drawn in by all of the pain in the air."

Gulping hard, Kenza shook her head at the surreal conversation and pulled herself together. The idea of another attack, especially with Ladybug already so hurt, sent a shard of ice through her belly, but she needed to focus on the current crisis. "Okay, I have some first aid training and this place is full of clothing. I'll make some bandages and try to stabilize Mari- Marinette," her mouth stumbled over saying the name of the girl behind Ladybug's mask and her ears popped. It was surreal, even with her workplace getting attacked by a terrorist.

"There are packages of Valentine’s Day cookies for sale in front of the cash register. They're totally overpriced, but help yourself to as many as you want. Though obviously," Kenza gave a slightly hysterical laugh, "obviously you don't have to pay for them."

Shoving down on her hysteria, Kenza turned away from the red fairy to focus on the girl named Marinette. Kenza carefully positioned the girl's twisted body until she lay on her side with her head tilted back in the Safe Airway Position. Her labored breathing smoothed out, but stayed worryingly shallow. Kenza tried not to think about how much blood had leaked out onto the carpet from the girl's body.

It struck her again that this was just a mortal girl. Ladybug had always been this monumental woman, swinging around the city and saving the day. She'd been superhuman, not just a superhero. Ladybug wasn't frail; she wasn't a simple high schooler like Kenza.

Yet the evidence in front of her eyes said otherwise. No matter what Kenza had believed, it didn't change the fact that Marinette was bleeding out in Kenza's part-time job. Wincing, she remembered that she should have bound the wounds before shifting the body. The knees of her slacks felt wet and tacky as they soaked up the blood, but she tried to ignore the implications. Ladybug couldn't die, she just couldn't.

Sniffling back her tears, Kenza grabbed the nearest t-shirt not covered in scratchy rhinestones or embroidery. Wadding it up, she pressed it to the bullet-hole in the shoulder of the girl on the floor. Dark blood quickly soaked through the thin pink cotton. Moving her had made it worse. If Kenza didn't get it stopped, Marinette really would bleed out.

Swallowing down the fear and bile surging in her throat, Kenza breathed through her nose and replaced the saturated bandage with a new t-shirt. She stuffed another one behind the shoulder to slow the flow of blood in the back. For a second she froze, worried that bones in the shoulder might be broken too, but she could only deal with one thing at a time. The bleeding was more urgent.

Pressing down on both sides of the shoulder with her hands, Kenza realized that she needed something to hold the bandages in place. Grabbing a sparkly silver belt off the floor, Kenza wrapped one more pink shirt around the whole thing and then cinched the belt tightly around the bandages, latching the heart-shaped buckle. It had to hurt, but the girl didn't flinch. Her unconscious body lolled limply in Kenza's hands.

By the cash register, Kenza heard the sound of plastic crinkling and ripping open, followed by a dainty crunch. "Thank you for helping us, Kenza," said Tikki’s weak voice a few seconds later.

"Of course," Kenza answered on automatic as she continued to bind and treat the girl’s other wounds. A long, deep gash on the back of her thigh took three t-shirts to cover. The girl's pale skin and shallow breathing worried her. What if she'd already lost too much blood?

"Ladybug can't really die, can she, Tikki?" Kenza asked fearfully as she reached the end of her first-aid training, placing extra shirts over the girl's body for warmth to ward off shock.

Holding a package of cookies under each arm, Tikki flew back over and landed next to Ladybug's limp hand. Giving it a squeeze, Tikki ripped open another package of cookies and stuffed her mouth. After a tension filled moment, she swallowed and finally looked up at Kenza with ancient eyes. "As long as the Miraculous earrings exist, Ladybug exists, but…."

"But? What does that mean?" Kenza pushed. 

Demolishing another cookie, Tikki didn't bother brushing away crumbs as she rubbed her head against Marinette's thumb. As she ate, the washed out red of Tikki's skin began to brighten. "Ladybug always survives, but sometimes the amazing women who wear the Ladybug mantle… don't." Tikki dropped her empty wrapper, turned to sit on Ladybug's hand, and ripped viciously into another package of cookies.

Fresh tears pricked Kenza's eyes and then escaped to dribble down her cheeks. "That sucks," she said hollowly, wiping her face and trying to keep herself from bawling. She needed to keep doing something to keep from breaking down. "Do you need more cookies?" Kenza asked desperately.

"No, thank you. More cookies won't help me right now, but maybe later," Tikki answered, wrapping her arms around Marinette's thumb and starting to glow faintly. They sat together in silent vigil, Kenza’s eyes staring sightlessly at a pile of shirts on the floor.

"Hi," a thready voice suddenly whispered, breaking Kenza from her dazed fugue.

Jumping, Kenza looked over into blue eyes darkened with pain. Marinette had woken up. "Hello," Kenza said tremulously. It felt as if a boulder had just lifted off her shoulders. "Thank you for waking up. It's an honor to meet you, Ladybug."

Tikki flew up in the air with a relieved smile. "This is Kenza," she introduced. “She’s been helping us.”

Despite her injuries, Marinette managed to dredge up a small smile. Looking at Kenza, she rasped, "I’m Marinette.” 

The pressure in the air suddenly ricocheted from oppressively heavy to too light, popping Kenza's ears painfully before slamming back to normal. Tikki gasped and dropped to the ground like a stone.

Marinette breathed in wrong and began coughing. Her body arched, convulsing in pain, and her eyes rolled back in her head. Kenza jumped forward to brace her, feeling helpless to do anything else. It seemed to take forever before Marinette finally managed to take in a shallow, raspy breath without coughing. The skin of Marinette's face had gone white. Even her lips looked more blue than pink.

"You're going to be okay, Marinette. The paramedics will be here soon," Kenza rattled off quickly, trying her best to be reassuring. "Just take it easy, okay? You're going to be fine."

From the corner of her eye, Kenza finally saw the police rushing into the courtyard with guns drawn. Relief surged through her body. They must have just been delayed by debris or fleeing crowds. The bomb squad followed, crouching over the downed terrorist and working to disarm or remove the bomb vest. "See? What did I say, the police are here. I'm sure the medics aren't far behind." Gently she squeezed the fingers of Marinette’s uninjured arm.

Then Tikki flew up into the air, her face a mask of despair. "Oh no. Not now.”

Kenza's eyes shot up to fearfully follow Tikki's gaze. A black moth fluttered down through the broken skylight and disappeared onto one of the upper levels. A minute later, a feathered man dressed in a neon yellow and electric blue jumpsuit flew out on a hang-glider into the center of the mall.

_Things had just gotten worse._

"I'll never cower again, you hear! Blue Eagle is on top now; Blue Eagle is the one flying high with all of the power! We’ll fix everything so it’s the way it should be," the super villain shrieked. "Where is Ladybug? I know she's hurt and I'm taking her Miraculous for Hawk Moth once and for all," he snarled. Dropping his head to examine the ground floor, he crooned maniacally, "Where are you.”

"Stop right there!" cried one of the policemen below, pointing his gun up at the villain, quickly followed by the rest of the police force. Despite his steady grip, the policeman's face looked sweaty and pale.

"You're eggs-asperating," mocked Blue Eagle as he suddenly shot a barrage of feathers at the police below. Unable to escape, the policemen all turned into bright blue eggs, along with the unconscious terrorist and injured security guard.

However, one of the cops got off a shot before her transformation into an egg, damaging the hang-glider and forcing it into an emergency landing on one of the upper levels. Blue Eagle shrieked in surprise. Seconds later, several people cried out before abruptly being cut off. A chair fell over the balcony and shattered on the floor. Luckily it missed all of the blue eggs. Then things went ominously quiet.

"My mom's up there," Marinette whimpered. "Tikki, we have to protect my mom. We have to-" her words dissolved into wet, hacking coughs. Blood trickled from the edge of her mouth.

"I'm sure Chat Noir will be here soon," Kenza said, scrambling for hope through the terror trying to drag her down all over again. "Just focus on breathing, Marinette. I'm sure he'll be here soon."

When Marinette finally stopped coughing, she opened watering eyes and locked them pleadingly onto Tikki. "Chat's… out of town," she said, destroying Kenza's fleeting hope. "So?" Marinette begged her friend.

Lips pressed together, Tikki shook her head. "We can’t. You're too hurt, Marinette. Even after the cookies, I still don't have enough Luck Magic to completely heal you. I've barely been able to get you conscious and staunch your bleeding. I healed people the best I could instead of structures with our last blast of magic, but the spell concealing your identities has drained my luck magic too much. It’s been challenged a lot more this month for some reason. Then you pushed even more of our strength to Chat Noir in the middle of the fight. Maybe if I had a few days to recover… but I don’t. I'm sorry."

Marinette closed her eyes with despair and bit her lip. A new trickle of red slid slowly down her cheek. Opening her eyes, she looked around desperately. Her eyes caught on Kenza’s and stopped, narrowing. Kenza felt pierced by blue lasers, as if cut her open to expose her every secret.

Marinette opened her mouth, but nothing came out but a wisp of breath. She licked her lips as if gathering her strength. Whatever she had to say, Kenza had a feeling she wouldn't like it.

Marinette breathed in shakily and then announced, "Kenza can."

She didn't understand. "Kenza can what?"

"Be Ladybug," Marinette stated flatly.

"What? No!" Kenza reared back in shock. "I can't. I'm ordinary! I'm not a hero like you."

The blood-crusted corner of Marinette's mouth twitched. "Lies. You're wonderful."

Tikki floated up towards Marinette's face, drawing her attention. "Once a Miraculous is passed, you can't take it up again," Tikki said with unnatural calm. Silent tears dripped down her red face. "Are you sure, my dear?"

"Only way to… save everyone," Marinette whispered with a tremulous smile, her eyes deep pools of pain. "Bye, Tikki."

Then Marinette blinked and turned to Kenza with sudden steel in her eyes. "Take my earrings and… put them on. Protect them. Protect… Paris." Each word was laboriously spoken.

"But-," Kenza protested one last time.

"Please," Marinette said simply.

Bowing her head, Kenza blew out her breath. “OK,” she whispered.

Reaching out with shaky hands, Kenza began removing the Miraculous earrings from Marinette's ears. The clasps on the back resisted at first, making her wonder if Marinette had ever even taken them off after first putting them on years ago. Finally they came free. Kenza slid the earrings out into her palm one piece at a time.

The Miraculous earrings felt tacky with blood. Kenza knew it wasn't sanitary, but it felt wrong to wipe the former Ladybug's blood away. Wrong to discard the evidence of Marinette’s sacrifice. Before she could second-guess herself, Kenza pulled out the diamond studs from her ears and threw them onto the bloody carpet below. She hesitated for a second more. Then she slipped the Miraculous earrings into her earlobes and secured them into place.

"Good," Marinette whispered. Her ears looked very naked and vulnerable. It made Kenza's chest hurt.

"You'll be a … wonderful… Ladybug. I know it," Marinette said. Kenza took her fingers and squeezed hard. Marinette cleared her throat and squeezed back weakly. "My mom's… stuck. Alcove… by pizza place… and video game… store. Door in back.” Marinette’s hand abruptly tightened and her voice rose. “Get her out. Promise!"

"I promise," Kenza said fervently. She knew exactly where that was and would go there first. Tikki dashed over to the counter and grabbed more heart-shaped cookies, then flew back and stuffed them into Kenza’s pockets.

Relaxing back, some of the lines disappeared from Marinette’s face. "Be patient with… Chat. Be his friend. He needs- he's- he's," breath speeding up, Marinette closed her eyes and coughed harshly. Tears trickled down her temples. "Tell him I…," her lips trembled, but nothing else came out but harsh pants.

After several beats of silence, Kenza squeezed Marinette's hand again. "I will, I promise. I'll treat him like a second brother."

Opening her eyes, Marinette nodded shallowly. "Yes, like family," she breathed. "Perfect."

"Anything else?" Kenza asked.

"Trust Tikki, protect… Miracu…lous and Paris, defeat… Hawk… Moth," Marinette said with increasing effort. Her eyes drooped.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Kenza wiped her running nose with the back of her hand. It left a streak of metallic-smelling blood on her cheek, but it barely registered under the enormity of what was happening. "I'll do my best to live up to you," Kenza promised wetly.

The former Ladybug shook her head. “Live up… to… yourself.” Eyes dark with emotion, she nevertheless gave Kenza a faint but encouraging smile. "Spots on."

"Spots on," Kenza repeated solemnly.

As soon as she spoke, Tikki zipped into her earring and the magic swept Kenza up in a swirl of shimmering light. New power flowed through her veins. Standing up, she bounced on her toes a few times, amazed by the feeling.

When she touched her face, she felt a mask clinging lightly to her forehead and cheeks. She wore the red bodysuit covered in black spots with a few slight alterations in pattern and accessories. The classic yoyo still hung at her hip, but had been joined by a short, marker-sized rod she’d never seen before. She’d have to figure it out later. For all intents and purposes, Kenza was now Ladybug.

_She felt amazing!_

"Good luck," Marinette voice choked out from where she still lay on the floor, tempering Kenza's excitement and reminding her of her purpose.

Kenza dropped down and squeezed Marinette's knee. "Thank you. I won't let you down."

She’d followed Ladybug for years, even posted some fan videos online, though most of them focused on shipping Ladybug x Chat Noir. Nevertheless, she’d seen what Ladybug said and did during fights; she just had to mimic her. This was just another kind of competition. Kenza was a champion fencer. She could do this.

Kenza turned and ran for the employee door in the back of the store. There was no time to lose. Through the back hallways she could rescue Marinette's mother. Then she could focus on taking down Blue Eagle and restoring the policemen back into people. After that, she'd make sure the paramedics got to Marinette first thing.

As the door swung shut at her back, Kenza thought she heard Marinette begin to sob wretchedly, but she didn't let herself look back again. If she did, she might start crying too and she didn’t have time for that. Locking her anxieties away as if she was about to enter a fencing competition, Kenza focused on being the best Ladybug she could possibly be. She would protect the people here and defeat Hawk Moth's minion. Kenza would win and justify Marinette’s faith. Everything else would wait until later.

* * *

 

Adrien's guilt ebbed and swelled like the tide as he watched the news report on the mall bombing attack. "So far, we have no report on how many people have been injured in the attack. The police reported back that the bomber had been neutralized, but those communications cut off when a supervillain calling himself Blue Eagle attacked the scene." Nadja Chamack seemed coolly composed as she delivered this newest bombshell.

Flinching, Adrien dug his fingernails into his folded arms to keep himself still.

"But hey," her bald co-host said, "we know Ladybug’s already there. I'm sure she dodged that bullet and is going to beat this Blue Eagle into a drumstick. Besides, with all of the ruckus, I'm sure Chat Noir will show up at any moment."

Adrien barely swallowed down his whine of shame.

Suddenly, Nadja looked up with a relieved grin. "Good news, Paris. We just had a report of Ladybug leading out a group of survivors from the loading dock." A slightly blurry picture popped up on the screen. It showed a figure in red half-carrying an older woman out into the parking lot while trailed by a small crowd. Adrien felt a surge of joy so sharp it hurt.

"I knew it!" crowed the co-host. "I knew Ladybug would be okay." He cocked his head to the side and hummed, "I wish that picture were clearer. It looks like Ladybug has her hair down for once, not that anyone could blame her. I'd be letting my hair down too if I dodged a literal bullet, at least, if I had any hair to let down." He ran a hand over his bald pate, "Hopefully, we'll be able to get an interview with her soon so she can tell us what happened after the video went dark earlier."

Squinting at the blurry picture, Adrien got a funny feeling in his chest. Yes, Ladybug's hair was down for the first time ever, but it wasn't just that though. She didn’t move right.

The feed switched to a news crew in the mall's parking lot. Bizarre theories raced through his head over the next few minutes as more people escaped out of the mall. The news commentary buzzed banally in the background.

Then Blue Eagle the supervillain flew out into the parking lot on a hang-glider with price tags still attached. He had feathers along his arms and boots that looked like bird claws, one small and yellow and the other big and blue. He tossed a handful of feathers. When a squad of police officers about to storm the mall turned into blue eggs, he cackled.

"Come back here, Blue Eagle!" Ladybug cried as she swung into view on camera.

Lifting a bottle of what looked like honey up into the air, she lobbed it at her opponent. It struck him in the back and broke, splattering him with gooey honey and gooping up the hang-glider. Shrieking, he tailspinned to the ground.

Ladybug went to land in front of him, but somehow didn’t stick the landing and tripped, falling onto her hands and knees instead. Cocking his head to the side, Adrien thinned his lips. Although he hoped her clumsiness didn’t indicate injury, he couldn’t help feeling confused by her appearance. Her hands and feet were now covered in black fabric instead of red and the spots on the rest of her suit looked rather small. Her unbound hair, also a much lighter brown than usual, fell forward to cover her face. Flicking her head with annoyance, she climbed back to her feet with her back to the camera. At least she didn't look or move like she was injured. Nevertheless, the differences were disorienting. 

At that point, Ladybug did something else strange. Instead of pulling out her yoyo, she reached down and pulled a red marker from her belt. She flicked her hand and it extended out into what looked like a fencing foil. Using the foil, she swatted Blue Eagle behind the knees, tripping him to the ground. Then she slipped the tip of her foil into the top of his big blue bird claw boot and pried it off his foot.

"NO!" Blue Eagle screamed, lunging for the boot. He clutched at the back and pulled. Ladybug flailed for a moment, tripped down onto her knees, and then managed to get a grip on the tongue of the bird boot. They tugged back and forth on it like little kids fighting over a toy.

Abruptly the boot ripped in two. They comically fell over backwards. A black butterfly flew out. Ladybug just stared at it, panting.

_What was she waiting for?_ "Capture it," Adrien urged beneath his breath.

Ladybug seemed to hear him, shaking her head and finally fumbled for her yoyo. She managed to pull it out, only to drop it on the ground where it started to roll away. Pouncing, she grabbed it before it rolled too far, came to her knees, and flung it up into the air. Adrien worried that it wouldn't stretch far enough, but at the last moment it snapped over the escaping akuma.

Adrien released a gusty sigh of relief and sagged back against the wall.

The purified white butterfly soared up into the sky a few seconds later. Ladybug went to the bitterly sobbing Blue Eagle and pried the sticky honey bottle off his back. "Miraculous Ladybug," she croaked, throwing it up into the air. A swarm of magical ladybugs swept through the parking lot and turned the blue eggs back into people. The swarm looked smaller than usual, but maybe it just seemed that way because of the TV. _Or because her magic was still low_ , his guilty conscious poked at him.

Ladybug patted the shoulder of the now blubbering man who'd been Blue Eagle. Then she jogged over to the paramedics. The news camera ran after her, barely catching her words. "You need to get inside right now. Please. There are a lot of injured people, especially around the central courtyard. I'll take you, but we have to go now!" She grabbed the arm of a beefy medic that looked familiar, a veteran of other Hawk Moth attacks, and began pulling.

Then the microphone picked up on a faint beeping. Ladybug froze, then looked up at the sky and heaved a sigh. "Sorry, I have to go."

Ladybug turned back to the medic, giving the camera its first close-up view of her face without her fly-away hair getting in the way. Through the ringing in his ears, Adrien noticed that her head came up to the beefy medic's chin on camera, even though she usually only stood as tall as his chest. The picture zoomed in until her masked face filled the camera. "But please, search the shops on the main level for injured people as soon as you can." Flinging out her yoyo, she disappeared around the edge of the mall and out of sight of the camera before she de-transformed.

Adrien’s mind crashed like a computer with bad software and was having trouble rebooting. He could explain away the wrong hair color and strange voice by blaming the TV settings. Her outfit change and new weapon could also be a quirk of having low magic. However, none of that covered why Ladybug now had brown eyes, thinner lips, a different nose, and a rounder face. _If he didn't know better, he'd say that there was a completely different girl running around inside that Ladybug suit._ _But that was impossible._

_Wasn't it?_

Spots danced across his vision and Adrien didn't realize he was hunched over, compulsively ringing his hands until someone touched his elbow. "Are you alright, hijo?" An older gentleman with a strong Spanish accent stepped into his line of sight.

"I'm fine," Adrien responded automatically. He was blinking rapidly and having trouble keeping his breathing steady. He ordered himself to calm down, but it didn't work. His breathing got worse.

"So I see," the man said gently. "Why don't you come and sit." Tugging softly, he pushed Adrien down onto a nearby bench. Leaning forward, Adrien dropped his head into his hands and forced himself to concentrate on his breathing and nothing else. He needed to get his breath to slow down enough to use his nose instead of panting open-mouthed like a dog. That was a simple and clear goal.

A warm hand settled on his shoulder as the man knelt down next to him on one knee. "There you go. Muy bien. Keep breathing. You're not alone here. Just slow it down, that's right."

The hand patted gently as he began a low, rambling conversation. "I have a grandson just your age, but he lives in Buga, Colombia. That's far off in the Americas. I don't see him as often as I like, but this summer he's coming to visit me for a few weeks. I bribed him with the promise of football games, though of course my Real Madrid is the best. I'm hoping to convince him to come to university in Spain so I can get him to fall in love with a local girl and move here permanently. His mother opposes my plan, of course, but even she has to concede that Spanish women are the best in the world, being one herself."

Finally regaining control of himself, Adrien carefully sat up. The hand on his shoulder slipped away, but the Spaniard stayed crouched by his side. "Now tell me the truth," the silver-haired man asked, "is there anything more lovely in this world than a Spanish girl? There are several in my neighborhood who both cook like angels and play football like wolves. Girls these days are so feisty, but then the boys seem to enjoy it that way." He gently smiled up at Adrien.

Forcing himself to offer a faint nod in return, Adrien's mind latched onto the mundanity of the conversation to avoid his panic. "I find myself favoring French women, being Parisian myself."

Nodding subtly as if confirming a guess, the gentleman pushed himself to his feet. "Luckily you are still young. You have time to learn better," he sent Adrien a teasing wink. "May I?" he asked, gesturing to the empty seat.

"Of course, please sit down," Adrien gestured, falling into good manners as a shield. "Thank you for your… help." He pushed down a wash of shame at his loss of control. "I'm Adrien Agreste, and you are?" He forced himself to politely inquire as the gentleman took a seat.

"Alejandro Sanchez, at your service, young Adrien." Inclining his head, Señor Sanchez reached into his coat and pulled out his wallet. He flipped it open and then tilted it to reveal a dog-eared, sepia-toned photograph of a lovely Spanish woman in a wedding veil. "Is she not the most handsome woman you've ever seen?" He waited only a beat before adding, "She's my wife, so I warn you that there's only one right answer to that question."

"She's beautiful," Adrien answered truthfully.  

Sanchez flipped the photo over to reveal a more recent photo of the same woman with plump cheeks and short, steel-grey hair. "She has certainly run me ragged over the years, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

"I thought you implied that modern girls are feisty compared to those in the past," Adrien prompted, trying to keep his mind off the news playing in the background. "How does your wife fit into that?"

Chuckling, Sanchez tucked his wallet away and leaned back against the bench. "My Amparo is much more subtle and cunning than girls today. The week before she agreed to marry me, she had me convinced she was leaving the country because nothing in town was worth her while to stay. I bent over backwards trying to show her my adoration to no avail. Then on her way to the train station, I jumped in front of her father's car to force it to stop. He ran over my foot." Sanchez chuckled, completely confusing Adrien.

"How's that funny?" Adrien lifted one brow.

"Oh, not the injury, but her reaction," Sanchez explained. "She leapt out of the car, made sure I was still breathing, and then walloped me over the head demanding to know what I was thinking."

"What did you say?" Adrien asked.

"I told her I loved her and didn't want her to leave, that I would do everything in my power to make her happy if she'd do me the honor of marrying me. She walloped me again and then asked why I hadn't just said I loved her months ago instead of acting weird, expecting her to read my mind, and then trying to kill myself with her father's car. I admitted to being an idiot and asked her to marry me, she agreed to save me from myself, and we haven't been parted ever since." His eyes crinkled with a self-satisfied smile.

"Sounds plenty feisty to me," Adrien remarked, unwillingly amused.

Sanchez shrugged. "Only when at her wit’s end. Usually she's even-tempered and sweet, well, except when we watch football. She supports Barcelona, you see. It can make things quite lively around the house."

Tilting his head, he gave Adrien a soft nudge with an elbow. "Which football team do you follow? As my new friend, I have to see if you need to be re-educated on sports as much as you need to be on the superiority of Spanish women."

With the train service shut down while security officers searched the premises, they discussed sports, horses, cheese, and literature. Adrien kept checking his phone, but his driver hadn't arrived yet. Surprisingly, his father hadn't tried calling him again. He must have gotten distracted by the events at the mall, but Adrien could only feel grateful for the reprieve. He couldn’t handle dealing with his father until he figured out the situation with Ladybug.

During a lull in the conversation, he found himself unwillingly sucked back into the coverage on the TV. "Although it so far borders on the Miraculous," the bald cohost paused for a second to smile, "there hasn't been a single casualty reported so far. Hundreds of people sustained injuries from the bomb blasts and falling debris inside the mall and have been rushed to area hospitals. Interestingly, friends of the most seriously injured report that some of their loved ones seemed dead until an initial wash of Ladybug magic, one not caught on camera, brought them back to life."

"That seems almost too far-fetched to believe," Nadia Chamack argued. "If Ladybug's magic can fix even death, why didn't it heal all of the little injuries people sustained or the damage to the infrastructure? Usually her Miraculous Ladybug at least fixes that. This phenomenon might be due to hysteria and coincidence more than anything else."

"I don't know. I think miracles are right up Ladybug's ally," her partner argued. "Hopefully the next person to get an interview with Ladybug can ask her to clarify."

"Speaking of clarification, was I the only one to notice Ladybug's new look?" Nadia Chamack asked. Adrien tensed as the screen showed two images of Ladybug side-by-side, one from her confrontation with the terrorist and the other from her defeat of Blue Eagle. "She looks like a completely different person," Nadia said, pointing out the differences Adrien had already noticed.

"I have to agree that she changed between the moment the video cut out after the gunshot and when she reappeared in the parking lot." The cohost rubbed his chin and then snapped his fingers. "Maybe she leveled up, like a Pokémon!"

"Ladybug's not a Pokémon," snapped Nadia with exasperation.

Leaning back, he raised a superior eyebrow. "How do you know? This could be a natural progression of her powers. Maybe Chat Noir will show up with a new look next."

"Maybe," Nadia conceded, "or maybe that gunshot really did hit Ladybug. Maybe she looks different because our old Ladybug doesn't exist anymore. You heard what she said, there will always be a Ladybug protecting Paris. Maybe we lost one, but she got replaced with another. You can't deny that the fight we watched seemed like the fumbling of a novice. Ladybug won that fight by the skin of her teeth."

"Or she was disoriented from levelling up into a new form," he argued back stubbornly.

"Ladybug is real, not some figure in one of your videogames or cartoons," she rebutted with heat in her voice.

"You're only saying that because you-" The feed abruptly cut off as the video switched to a reporter standing in front of the mall interviewing the police chief. He only seemed to be repeating what had already been said, so Adrien slumped back into his seat.

Abruptly, Adrien's phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw that his driver had finally arrived.

"Is everything alright?" Sanchez asked carefully.

"My ride's here," Adrien said, standing up and holding out his hand. "Thank you for sitting with me, Señor, and for keeping me distracted."

"De nada," he waved off the thanks and shook Adrien’s hand firmly. "Good luck, hijo, and take care of yourself." Then Sanchez’s eyes went keen. “No matter what the Ladybug looks like, she is still protecting Paris. That is something to be grateful for, no?”   

Unable to form a reply, Adrien nodded, hitched his backpack higher onto his shoulder, and left to meet the car. It said something about his life that he was desperately wishing Ladybug to be a Pokémon right now. Unfortunately, he didn’t think it worked that way. The ride home passed in silence as Adrien braced himself for one more loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yes, I went there. I’ve never seen Marinette lose being Ladybug to someone else in a story, so my muse decided to explore that. How will this new Ladybug fare? What will Marinette do with her life now? What about poor Adrien/Chat? We’re in the home stretch, now. All that’s left is the fallout from the mall, the final confrontation with Hawk Moth, and the resolution of relationships. Stay tuned to find out more and PLEASE comment to let me know what you think. I live for those things.


	14. The New Old Marinette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The email notification may still be broken on this story, so make sure you read the previous chapters. Thanks! Also, I will keep my promise of a happy ending to this story. Don’t give up on it please!

 

Time passed in a strange mélange of pain, confusion, gelatin cups, and drug-induced dreams. Marinette randomly came in and out of consciousness with no respect to the position of the sun or moon outside her window. Plus, the hospital was always cold and smelled funny. She didn’t like it at all.

At one point, she woke up a strange nurse and her father holding her down on the hospital bed. Confused, she froze. After answering a few questions to prove her rationality, they finally backed away. Eyes bruised with worry and lack of sleep, her father explained that she'd been shouting nonsense and tried to hit the nurse checking her stitches, threatening them with Chat Noir as if she was Ladybug or something. Her dad snorted and shrugged, inviting her to share in on the joke.

_But I am Ladybug,_ Marinette thought crossly as she scratched an itchy earlobe. It wasn't her fault the drugs made her crazy. Then she realized her fingers were scratching freely against the skin. Her Miraculous earrings were gone.

_Without the earrings, I'm_ not _Ladybug anymore_ , Marinette realized. Her empty earlobes reminded her that all of the perks of Ladybug were gone. The problems were gone too, but she desperately wished them back if only they came with Tikki and the joy of soaring through the air in a red suit with Chat Noir by her side. How foolish she’d been, to resent the weight of the Miraculous in her life. Right now, she’d give almost anything to have it back.

When she dissolved into tears, she let her father think it was to waking up restrained. When she couldn't seem to stop weeping, she held his hand tightly until the nurse pressed her pain pump. Then Marinette gratefully fled into sleep’s dark embrace.

The next time Marinette woke up, she looked around to find herself completely alone. No parents and no nurses. "It's safe to come out, Ti—“ she cut her words off with brutal swiftness, but the damage was done. There was no one there to hear them. Loneliness made her eyes sting. Tikki wasn't there to hear them and she never would be again. From now on, Marinette truly was alone. The first sob caught her off guard and caused her shoulder to flare with agony. Pressing her pain pump, Marinette once more fled into drugged unconsciousness.

After her second surgery, they switched the pain meds hooked up to her IV. Unfortunately, the new drugs made her hallucinate. Her dad said he’d talk to the doctor about it.

_Or had she only imagined that conversation?_

Marinette was pretty sure they’d at least promised to stop prodding at her so much. They’d said something about just monitoring the rate of healing and watching for infection instead of more surgeries. Her damaged shoulder was immobilized and felt completely useless. She couldn’t move her arm and would have to wear a sling for months. At least both surgeries had supposedly been very successful. She still had that much luck.

The sound of her door opening had Marinette turning away from her bored watching of the clouds outside her window. Then she saw Carrie Moreau walk into her hospital room. Shocked, Marinette just blinked stupidly. Smiling professionally, Carrie nodded her way, tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear and introduced herself to Marinette and her dad as Doctor Moreau.

Marinette didn’t know what to believe. _Was Adrien’s “Aunt” Carrie really here? Or was this another hallucination?_ Then again, Carrie had also introduced herself as Dr. Carolyn Moreau when they’d first met. This could be real.

A tall figure in a hooded black cloak followed Carrie into the room. _Some kind of nurse, maybe?_ The voluminous folds of the cloak concealed the nurse’s face and employee badge.

Coming around the side of her bed with a professional stride, Carrie got a close-up look at Marinette’s face and stumbled in surprise. Face twisting with sadness, she came up and placed a hand on Marinette’s blanket-covered leg. “Oh Marinette, I didn’t realize you’d been hurt. I’m so sorry.”

The nurse in the black hood drifted to the foot of Marinette’s bed and began laying tools out on the rolling table. First a long shovel that almost rolled off the too-small table, then a pink satin pillow and white sheet, followed by a large hammer and handful of loose nails. Marinette missed what Carrie said next as she anxiously watched the little table grow crowded.

“—so we’re going to move you there in a few minutes, alright?” Carrie stared at her expectantly.

“Moving?” Marinette asked, her tongue feeling thick as she anxiously watched the nurse in black move around the room.

“You’ll have to share the space, but you’ll hardly notice,” Carrie said.

Picking up the gauzy sheet, the nurse in black shook it out with a clap. Marinette swallowed miserably. “I guess it’s cheaper that way, but with who?”

“Probably no one you know, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it,” her dad soothed, completely unfazed as the hooded nurse walked in front of him and covered Marinette’s entire body with the sheet. Marinette batted at it with her one good hand, but couldn’t get the fabric off her face and head. It was too heavy. _At least she could still see through it_ , she told herself, trying not to panic.

“Marinette?” Her father stepped up to the table and put his hand on the pink pillow, probably to hand it to the nurse in black. The nurse really should have put the pillow under Marinette’s head first and then covered her with the sheet.

“Can’t I share with Marie and Marlene? I don’t want to be buried with a stranger.” Tears pricked the corners of Marinette’s eyes and escaped to soak into the hair at her temples. The hooded nurse had no sympathy, ignoring the pink pillow beneath her father’s hand to pick up the hammer. Black robes slithering across the floor like snakeskin, the nurse began nailing the sheet to the hospital bed, trapping Marinette inside.

“Buried? Marinette, what are you talking about?” her father asked with puzzlement and concern. She’d answer him, but the pounding of the hammer was too loud.

“I’m not even dead yet,” Marinette whined crossly. “Can’t the nurse at least stop hammering the nails until I finish dying?”

In the corner of her eye, she saw Carrie step up to her IV and start fiddling with something. “Marinette, there’s no nurse here, just your father and me.”

Scowling, Marinette gave the red-head a dirty look. “She’s standing right there, or he is, I can’t tell sex beneath the big black cloak, but the nurse is right here nailing me into the coffin without even giving me the pink pillow! Don’t you care at all? I’m going to tell Adrien,” she threatened.

Then her anger turned to ash. _Poor Adrien. He didn’t need another death right now. He’d already suffered enough._ Tears began flowing faster from her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, not sure if she was talking to Adrien, Carrie, or her father.

After injecting something into Marinette’s IV line, Carrie turned and leaned over the bed. “Calm down. You’re hallucinating, Marinette. You’re not dying and we aren’t burying you. In fact, you’re healing quite well.”

Abruptly her sadness switched to suspicion. Marinette looked between the doctor and her father. “I am? You’re not? Really?”

Smoothing her hair back from her face, her father wiped the tears off her cheeks. “No, sweetheart, of course not. Dr. Moreau is giving you a checkup before we move you to a new room to heal a little more from the last surgery. If all goes well, you’ll be coming home in a few days.” As he spoke, she felt everything go fuzzy.

“We’re going to take care of you and switch your meds to something else. You’re safe. Just relax and sleep for a bit, my dear.” With Carrie’s words drifting through her ears, Marinette stopped fighting the drugs and fell asleep.

She slept dreamlessly.

Then, for the first time in days, Marinette woke up with a clear head. She decided to avoid the pain pump for a while to maintain her clarity. After a few minutes, she began to feel an itching curiosity. _Did she look as different on the outside as she felt on the inside?_ She felt like she should.

Sliding her legs over the side of the bed, she slowly got to her feet. The back of her injured thigh felt uncomfortable, but bearable. One arm was strapped to her side to protect her wounded shoulder. When she gingerly moved her shoulder, it felt swollen and let off sharp flicks of pain.  At least the other arm seemed to work mostly fine. You could do a lot with one arm.

Using her IV stand as a crutch, she slowly limped her way into the bathroom. The bed on the other side of the room was currently empty and her parents were gone. She didn’t mind having this moment to herself. Marinette's shuffle finally took her to the sink. Although it had been her destination, suddenly she feared looking up. She waited for Tikki's witty and compassionate comment on her hesitation, then remembered for the hundredth time that Tikki was gone.

Lifting her chin stubbornly, she forced herself to meet the blue eyes in the mirror. The color was the same, but they looked old and unusually serious and sad. Fading bruises painted her face in yellows and greens. Her washed-out skin also made her faint freckles and blue veins standout strangely.

As she widened her focus, an involuntary whine escaped her throat. Marinette raised her one good hand to the shorn ends of her hair. She’d thought it just tied back, but she was wrong. They'd chopped it all off until the longest strands only reached her ears. _Had it gotten singed in the explosion or maybe damaged by flying debris?_ She couldn't remember. No more pigtails, buns, or braids for her. They'd left her with a pixie cut. She looked strange.

_She’d expected to look different, but not this different. Marinette took it back. Make her the same again!_

"It'll grow back soon," her mother's voice consoled from the doorway at her back.

Marinette knew intellectually that her hair would return, but it still hurt right now to see it. Plus, the short hair left her earlobes completely exposed. The empty holes were glaringly obvious. Her Miraculous earrings were gone and she had a sinking feeling that they wouldn't ever come back. Hadn’t Tikki said as much?

_Just who was Marinette without Ladybug?_ Weak. Powerless. Only Ladybug had Tikki and Chat Noir, not boring old Marinette. She looked in the mirror and saw a stranger.

Her reflection became blurry as tears overflowed her eyes and dripped down her cheeks. She was such a crybaby lately, but she couldn’t help herself. Her mother's arms carefully pulled her into a hug.

"I don't want to be that girl in the mirror. I want to be me," Marinette sobbed into her mother's shoulder. "She's not me. I need them back. I can't- I can't!" Each convulsive sob sent pain spiking through her still healing injuries. They slid down to the floor together as Marinette lost herself in mourning for her former life.

At some point, her father slid into the cramped bathroom and worked his arms around them both. Marinette didn't have much strength, so her crying quickly tapered off. Her cheek rested on the soaked fabric of her mother's Cheongsam. Marinette hiccupped.

Stroking a hand lovingly across the back of her bare neck, her mother pressed a kiss to her head. She reached past Marinette and grabbed some toilet paper. Then she carefully dabbed Marinette's face dry.

"Let's get you back to bed, sweetheart," her father rumbled. He slipped arms beneath her legs and behind her back and stood up.

"But your arm," she found the strength to protest fretfully.

"You don't weigh more than a beignet," he said as he maneuvered through the narrow doorway with her mother trailing behind pushing the IV pole. "Obviously you haven't eaten enough of my baking lately. We'll work on that as soon as we get you home." Gently he placed her in the bed and then adjusted her arm so it hung in the sling comfortably.

Her mother spread the blanket over her bare legs covered in fine dark hairs. How long had it been since she'd shaved her legs? How long had she been in the hospital? Marinette wasn't sure.

"How are you feeling?" her mother asked. "Do you want another dose of pain medication? You're overdue."

"Of course she wants it," her father said with exasperation.

"Marinette?' her mother asked calmly, ignoring him.

The respect for her wishes sent a rush of gratitude through Marinette and helped her calm down. She thought for a moment. "I’d like it right now, but it makes my head fuzzy. I'd like to wait on the next dose until I really need it. Is that— is that okay?"

Dropping a kiss on her forehead, her mother touched a button on the IV stand. "Of course, sweetheart." Seconds later, blissful coolness spread up her arm and blunted the sharp pain throbbing throughout her body. Her stomach slopped queasily for a second, but the reduced pain made it worthwhile. Holding her father's tender gaze, her blinks grew longer and longer until she could no longer lift the boulders of her eyelids and surrendered to sleep.

Over the next couple of days, different nurses cycled through her room, poking, prodding, and causing pain in the name of modern medicine. She knew they were trying to help, but did she really need a bandage change at three am? Or another x-ray right as she finally fell back asleep after hours of staring at the ceiling? It didn't help that each day in the hospital meant more money draining out of the family bakery's coffers. Could they even afford the extra tests suggested by the doctor? Optional meant not necessary to her mind. She wasn't dying (at least not anymore), the surgeries had been amazingly successful, and the wounds were all closed up with scabs, stitches, and casts. Now she just needed drugs to dull the pain and time to heal. She could do that at home. It would take a long time, but maybe someday she would be as mature about it as the former Ladybug, Marlene. Not any time soon though.

"Mom, I want to go home," Marinette finally announced.

Her mother frowned. "The doctors said you could stay a while longer to make sure no infection sets in."

"I can do that at home, where I'm less likely to get the MRSA superbug," she pointed out logically. "The foods also ten times better and I can have congee instead of oatmeal. I asked for tea and the nurse gave me a Lipton teabag. Isn't that based out of America? Who trusts Americans with tea when you could have a loose-leaf Chinese oolong?" Marinette could tell that her mother was wavering.

Running a hand gently over the top of Marinette's head, she hummed. "If you’ll finally look at yourself in the mirror again, I'll talk to your father about going home."

Startled, Marinette looked up at her mother. Then she huffed. "How did you notice that?"

"I'm your mother, dear," she said serenely. "I notice everything. Whenever the nurse helps you to the bathroom, you hang your head. You keep touching your ears and the short ends of your hair and wincing, but it isn't that bad. You’re still a beautiful young woman. The short hair even gives you a new level of maturity and poise. We can buy you new earrings and the hair will grow back. Besides, I've always been quite fond of shorter haircuts." She gestured to herself with a twinkle in her eyes.

The gesture exposed the yellowed bruising on her mom’s forearms from the mall attack. Thank goodness it hadn’t been worse. _No, thank the new Ladybug for that._ What had her name been? She’d lost it, the word hovering on the tip of her tongue but no closer.

"Are you ready?" her mother asked encouragingly.

_Ready to accept the differences in herself? Ready to accept her face with no Miraculous earrings as bookends?_ Sometimes, she'd felt enslaved by the destiny of those earrings and the nagging of Tikki, but now she'd been freed, she desperately wanted her duty back.

No, she wasn't ready to face the world as just Marinette. However, she didn't have a choice. This was the rest of her life. Hiding from the hard stuff had never worked.

Pushing the button on the hospital bed, Marinette let it push her upright and lower her legs closer to the floor. Then she did what she had to. "Help me up, Mama?"

* * *

 

February had been a very bad month for Adrien Agreste. He’d lost his hopes about his mother and his trust in his father, lost his Ladybug and gained a new Ladybug who acted like an annoying little sister, and seen an uptick in Hawk Moth attacks and had to fight them with a novice. Added to that, he’d almost lost Marinette, one of his best friends, in the mall attack.

So during fights, he missed his Ladybug. At school, he missed Marinette. At home, he’d stopped speaking with his father because of the lies about his mother’s disappearance and death. Not that his father was ever around to ignore anyways. Despite Adrien’s still simmering anger, he couldn’t help but traitorously miss his father too.

Needless to say, he was very grateful March had finally kicked February to the curbside. Hopefully this month would be better instead of worse. Then again, considering how he kept screwing things up, it probably would be worse and it’d be his fault.

“Adrien, do you want anything to drink?” Alya asked from the kitchen in Marinette’s house, breaking him from his melancholy thoughts. Shaking his head, he went and sat down in the chair by the couch where the injured Marinette lay propped up by pillows. The three friends had come to visit her.

Nino joined his girlfriend in the kitchen. “Here, let me help.”

Handing Nino four cups to fill despite Adrien’s refusal, Alya picked up a pill bottle and rattled it. “How is your pain, Marinette? Do you need your next dose?”

“No, I took it just before you guys came over,” Marinette said, waving her one good hand languidly in the air. The other lay strapped to her chest to protect her healing shoulder from jostles.

Marinette turned to Adrien. Tilting her head, she stared silently. Confused, he raised an eyebrow. A smile grew on her face. “I’m glad you’re my friend.”

“Me too,” he couldn’t help but reply, feeling an unexpected flood of relief that she hadn’t been hurt worse in the mall bombing. “I’m very glad you’re my friend and we can talk now. For the longest time, I thought you didn’t like me.”

Marinette’s eyes got big. Two badly muffled snorts of disbelief sounded from the kitchen. She covered her face. “Noooo, how embarrassing!” Marinette moaned into her arm.

Dropping her hand, she leaned forward earnestly with eyes dilated so black that only a thin ring of blue remained. “See, see, I couldn’t talk because I was too embarrassed. You were my crush. I didn’t want to look stupid, but instead I ended up always looking stupid. Like the stuttering and clumsiness and giving you that blue scarf I made or the poem and then forgetting to sign my name. But it made you happier to think they came from someone else, so I couldn’t say anything, right?”

Adrien felt his breath leave him in a woosh, suddenly unable to breathe back in. She’d made the blue scarf? It hadn’t come from his father after all? And the Valentine’s poem too?

Unaware of his reaction, Marinette flopped her head back and stared up at the ceiling. “My Marinette side sometimes has problems with nerves, which is why being the other side was sometimes easier. But that’s gone now so I’m stuck with just this side.” She sounded mournful, despite not making any sense. “I still like you lots, but I was trying to give the other side a chance, to give him my heart instead. That’s gone now,” her breath hitched. “I even ripped down all the pictures.” She paused and rubbed at her eyes.

“But at least I figured out how to talk to you, ‘cause once you can see that a boy is a bit of a dork it makes it easier to laugh with him and be a dork too.” Marinette turned back to him and smiled softly. “I like being your friend much better. Sometimes I forget because you’re so beautiful and kind and funny and lonely. You have lonely kitty eyes.” Adrien flinched, reminded of his lost Ladybug saying those same words. Her face got sad.

Reaching out, she squeezed his knee. “I want to make you not lonely anymore. You deserve crowds of happiness. Crowds!” Then Marinette flopped back and pulled her blanket up to her chin. “But I don’t feel good and my head is spinning, so I’m gonna take a nap, ‘kay?” She closed her eyes. Within thirty seconds, she began producing delicate snores.

Adrien had no idea how to react to all of her unexpected revelations.  Wiping sweaty palms down his thighs, he stood up. Then he stared blankly at the wall.

“You can’t blame her for what she says while on drugs,” Alya defended from the kitchen.

Adrien turned to look at her and Nino. “Was any of that a lie, though?” he asked softly.

Crossing her arms, Alya shrugged uncomfortably. “She flailed like an idiot and crushed on you hard for years, but you seemed oblivious so she finally managed to push it down so we could all hang out together.”

Nino shuffled awkwardly. “Everyone but you knew, which kinda made it worse for her.”

“Even about the gifts?” Adrien asked, dumbfounded.

Alya shook her head firmly. “No, no one knew about that but me because I’m her bestie and she swore me to secrecy.”

“Okay,” he said softly, pulling on his training to control his face, his emotions. He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh, scream, or cry. “I’m going to- going to go.”

“Adrien,” Alya begged, but he held up a hand to cut her off, his silver Miraculous ring catching his eye.

He’d never thought of Marinette as more than a wonderful friend because he’d always loved Ladybug. _But could he love Marinette?_ The answer sprang fully formed into the front of his mind: _Yes, easily_. In fact, it might not be a fact of _if_ he could love her, but of _how much_ he was willing to love her. The realization staggered him.

However, to fully commit to Marinette, he’d have to accept that his Ladybug was really gone. Adrien would have to let her go. He didn’t think he was ready for that. His loyalty and love, once given, were given forever.

_Even after everything, his father_ — but no, he didn’t want to think about his problems with his father. Not in front of other people. Not right now.

Adrien shrugged on his coat and realized that he could start wearing his blue scarf again. That every time he wore it, he’d now think about Marinette’s impish smile as she offered to protect his head. Something in his chest twisted and turned over. He didn’t know if that was a good or a bad feeling, wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

Everything had suddenly become much more complicated. It made him tired. “Everything’s fine. I’m not going to stop being her friend. I just need to process this. It’s fine. I just need to go.” Avoiding Nino’s sympathetic face and the way Alya was biting her lip furiously to keep back the words burning in her gut, Adrien turned and left.

* * *

 

Marinette was in a funk. She'd just gotten the last of her stitches out, but the doctor still wouldn't let her get rid of the arm sling, despite her protests. The internet told her that the shoulder should heal in six to eight weeks. _Sure it still hurt, but didn’t you have to work through the pain?_ Looking at her pertly, the doctor had sniffed dismissively, told Marinette it could take six months or more to heal, and ordered her to just listen to the physical therapist.

_Months, ugh!_

Although she wanted to fling herself onto her bed in a pout, Marinette had to settle for carefully lowering herself a body part at a time. Wiggling until the covers almost fell off, she let her head hang backwards off the edge and stared despondently at the blank wall peppered with pin-holes.

Only a clear pushpin holding a scrap of paper broke the monotony. It used to hold up the sexy picture of Adrien as Chat Noir, but she'd ripped it down the first week she'd been home. Seeing the gorgeous model Miki dressed like Ladybug, who really didn't look anything like Marinette after all, hurt too much. She hadn't needed the constant reminder of what she'd lost. Chat would never again look at her with that familiar mix of protectiveness, appreciation, and respect.

To him, Marinette was practically a stranger. Even if she could get him to stop long enough during a battle to talk to her, who was to say he’d even believe that she really had been Ladybug? And even if he believed, what could he possibly see now in her, an awkward girl in a sling? Her secret thoughts of romance with Chat were truly dead.

As for Adrien, romance wasn't likely there either. Thinking of his sexy opal eyes in the Ladybug photo only reminded Marinette that he’d never looked at her like that. Not to mention what Alya had told her about his discomfort with her drug-induced confession of love.

_She was such a loser!_

Besides, Adrien didn’t need her dragging him down right now. Lately, he really seemed to be struggling to maintain a cheerful mask. She had the sense that not even Nino knew the whole truth of his woes, much less Alya, her main source of gossip. He had to be struggling with his mother’s death and his crumbling relationship with his father, but it seemed like there was more to it when she tried to cheer him up. He just seemed so sad.  

Nino had mentioned that they’d rarely hung out lately because Adrien was always busy at lessons, modeling, or losing himself in the gym or on a running trail. "When my panting breath becomes louder than the music, it's a sign that such sweaty things are not meant for me," Nino had shrugged.

The blood rushing to her upside-down head started to feel uncomfortable. It made dwelling on depressing things while sulking difficult. Tikki used to pull her out of these funks before they lasted this long, but now she only had herself. Scowling, she stuck her tongue out. Drool escaped her open mouth and trickled down into her nose. "Ugh! Gross!" flipping over, she frantically wiped her face dry on her bedsheet.

"Moping is boring," Marinette groused.

Only silence answered her, so she decided to answer herself. "Well, maybe you should stop moping then."

"And do what, genius? I don't have superhero-ing to keep me busy anymore, remember?"

Assuming a fake accent, she continued her dialog. "Yes, yes, we all know you aren't Ladybug anymore. That doesn't mean you're completely useless."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, you could let yourself fade away into a shell of your former self and be miserable forever and ever."

"There's some appeal to that. It sounds easy."

"And boring."

"True. Classic literature lied to me. It's supposed to be dramatically romantic. I feel cheated."

"Plus, Chloe would gloat forever over our misfortune. She'd probably even use it to get attention, telling people she went to school with the poor broken girl who lives at the bakery, that she always knew we'd amount to nothing and crack one day."

"Ugh, I don't know if I can stomach doing anything that makes Chloe smug."

"So where does that leave us?"

Marinette chewed on the edge of her pillow in thought. Spitting it out, she nodded her head decisively. "We're not a superhero, but… that doesn't mean we can't be heroic. Isn't that what Tikki always said?"

"I don't think we can fight and cure the evilized without superpowers."

"Yeah, but didn't we always mean to track down Hawk Moth to his secret lair? Except we never got anywhere because school and the bakery and fights kept interrupting us. We never had the time. It took everything just to keep our head above water."

Marinette tried to remember her old plan to find Hawkmoth's lair. _Something about going over all of the attacks since Hawk Moth first appeared and marking them down on a map of Paris? Hadn’t a lot of fights happened near her school and Chloe's hotel?_ There had to be a pattern of either where the attacks were taking place or of where they weren't.

Nodding to herself, she continued the one-sided conversation. "We have lots of time now. We don't need spots to still make a difference. If we can track down Hawk Moth, he won't suspect us because we look normal.  Once that happens, we can tell the new Ladybug and Chat Noir where he is. Then they can finally defeat him and take away his Miraculous so he can't make trouble for Paris anymore."

"That's a great plan!” she congratulated herself. “Much better than talking to myself like a nutter. If my mom hears, she'll double my therapy appointments."

Marinette rolled carefully off her bed so as not to jar her shoulder. Going to her desk, she opened her junk drawer. Loose papers filled it to the brim. Grabbing a large handful, she dumped it onto the floor and sat down. “I don’t even know what half this stuff is,” she muttered with annoyance.

Rifling through them one-handed, she eventually found the map and notes where she'd started marking the location of supervillain sightings. She hadn't been kidding about getting distracted. Despite three years of battles, she'd only marked about ten places on the map. Luckily the Ladyblog would help her to finish her research. Alya and her followers were very thorough.

Finished, she prodded the remaining papers back into a loose pile on the floor. When she went to stuff them back into the drawer, she saw the corner of a newspaper peeking out. Curious, she pulled it out.

Sitting back onto her heels, she awkwardly spread the newspaper out on her lap. Beneath the fold she found an article about the impact of the Ladybug and Chat Noir statue in the park a year after the unveiling. They interviewed the sculptor about his experience of meeting Ladybug in private after she missed the unveiling. Marinette still felt guilty about that and how he got akumatized because of his disappointment. In the article, other people talked about how the statue in the park had inspired them to change for the better. It had even become a meet-up spot for exercise groups, first-dates, and motivational street fairs. The paper had printed a goofy shot of Chat and her being silly in front of the heroic statue.

Sometimes she forgot that being Ladybug wasn't all doom and gloom and gritty responsibility. The two of them had had fun over the years. They'd also met some really wonderful people. Marinette had done a lot of good as Ladybug. She should focus on that more.

Standing up, Marinette awkwardly pinned the picture to her wall. She was ready to see it again. Maybe it could motivate her too. A scrap of paper from the ripped-down fashion spread fell off a nearby pin and fluttered through the air like a white moth. Her eyes followed its downward path.

Suddenly seized by another impulse, Marinette decided not to question it. Fishing out the crumpled picture of Adrien as Chat Noir from her junk drawer, she traced with her eyes his fiercely handsome profile and the way his fingers curled around Ladybug’s waist. She should be strong enough to put this photo up again. She should be, but the persistent pain in her heart made her balk.  

Instead, she compromised by digging out her second-favorite fashion photo, the one of a fondly exasperated Chat Noir balancing a smirking Ladybug against his chest while she adjusted the strap of her scarlet heel. Even after her trauma, it still made Marinette smile. Sighing, she pinned it up next to the newspaper article.

As a final touch, she grabbed the homemade Tikki doll from her tangled covers. After dropping a fond kiss on the worn red fabric, she tied some twine around its middle. Then she hung it up next to the photos so it seemed like Tikki was flying along with them.

Stepping back, Marinette smiled at her new decorations. They made her feel warm, a warmth untarnished by the traumas of the winter. Scooping up the remaining papers, she stuffed them back in her junk drawer. Then she turned to her computer, brought up the Ladyblog, and began adding dots to the map she planned to use to track down Hawk Moth’s base of operations.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with us. I added a picture of Marinette’s new haircut to my Tumblr.


	15. Patrolling and Mentoring

 

Marinette's hair may be short now, but it was also sassy. She'd never felt sassy before, but she could work with this. Shrugging her jacket on over her shoulder brace, she checked her pockets for cell phone, keys, and money, and then headed for the door.

"Don't forget your purse, sweetheart," her mom called, wiping her hands on a towel as she came out from the kitchen.

Steps stuttering, Marinette forced herself to smile dismissively. "I don't like using that purse anymore. Everything fits into my pockets anyways. I'm just going for a walk, so I’ll see you later." Giving a wave, she turned and left. Ever since losing Tikki, she couldn't bear to use that purse anymore. Its emptiness was too symbolic of what she was trying to forget about her current life.

Coming out onto the street, Marinette shook her head sharply. "Sassy not sad, that's what you are," she coached herself. At the corner, she turned left and kept walking. The muted ache in her shoulder kept her from going very fast, but she tried not to feel discouraged. She didn't have a set destination in mind, anyways. Just a general area.

After looking over her notes and marking a map with supervillain attacks, Marinette had chosen the closest area of high concentration sightings to explore. She planned on walking around and looking for anything suspicious. If she got lucky, assuming she had any luck left, she might see a black akuma exiting its lair. Hawk Moth had greatly increased the number of attacks after the mall bombing. No more than three days had passed between attacks. Last week alone there had been four attacks in seven days.

For some reason, the villains seemed to be focusing on Ladybug more than Chat Noir lately. Poor Ladybug. It must be a rough transition for the new girl.

Marinette's memory of passing over her Miraculous was fuzzy and disjointed. She still felt like she'd done the right thing, but the girl's name and even face had become hard to remember.  She wasn't sure if it was because of her injuries or because of the spell protecting the superheroes’ identities. It was one more thing to be sad about. Marinette would have liked to mentor and answer questions for the new Ladybug. She also wanted to make sure Tikki was doing alright. Instead, she just had to hope for the best.

After an hour of wandering around, Marinette had nothing to show for it except sore feet and cramps in the muscles around her injured shoulder. She'd passed Adrien's house in her wanderings, but hadn't felt confident enough to just drop in. It reminded her that she'd been so focused on herself that she'd forgotten to make sure he was really doing alright. Their occasional calls and texts weren’t enough. Marinette needed to be a better friend.

Deciding to give up for the day, she stopped at the corner of Shooting Star Lane - a dark, crooked, cobblestone street winding toward the back of the Agreste estate. It seemed a lot shabbier and broken down than a street in this neighborhood should, especially one bordering the house of a perfectionist like Gabriel Agreste. She wondered if the street name had anything to do with his late wife.

Shrugging off her curiosity, she turned back towards the bakery and home. A sudden flapping sound from behind made her pause. Heart beating double-time, Marinette turned, leaving the sunny street to creep into the shadowed lane. The soft flapping sounded again just around the bend. Straining her ears, she heard a distant susurration, like wind through autumn leaves. However, the air was still and it was spring.

Desperately wishing for her Ladybug yoyo, Marinette padded forward and peeked around the corner. Unfortunately, she didn't see the bottle under her foot until too late. Marinette tripped. The bottle went spinning out into the open with a ringing clatter. Something dark flew up into the air right in front of her face. Marinette screamed and fell backwards onto the ground. Opening her eyes, she peeked up fearfully, only to see a pigeon rapidly winging away into the blue sky.

A pigeon.

Feeling completely stupid, Marinette stood up and dusted off her pants one handed. Overgrown tree limbs heavy with buds stuck over the fence separating the street from the backyard of the Agreste estate, contributing to the dark and mysterious feeling. Marinette noticed a roof in the very back corner of the yard. She’d never noticed it from the house. It must be out of sight from the main estate. Weeds and ivy were doing their best to swallow the building back into the earth. Maybe it was an abandoned groundskeeper’s cottage? The Agreste family didn't seem like the type to spend any time in a backyard, but Mr. Agreste also didn’t seem the type to allow a blade of grass to be out of place. _Curious_. Maybe they’d somehow forgotten the building was even there.

A strange, multi-layered susurration drifted through the air and over the wall. It sounded less like leaves this time and more like the fluttering pages of a book. Marinette rolled her eyes at herself. _Probably just more pigeons._ She'd have to ask Adrien if he knew about the building in the back of his yard the next time she saw him. Adjusting her arm to hang a bit more comfortably in its sling, she turned and left Shooting Star Lane to head back home.

Ten minutes later, out of nowhere, Marinette heard distant trumpets begin blaring a fight song like a halftime show at a football game. Everyone on the street looked around in curiosity for the source of the noise. The street quickly emptied of cars. Drums and piccolos started playing, followed by French horns and a lone tuba. It sounded like a marching band, but there weren't any stadiums nearby or parades scheduled for today. Marinette got a very bad feeling when she saw a double-line of tall, knobby shadows appear at the end of the street and stretch closer and closer. She backed up against the wall, fumbling at her side to open her purse for Tikki. Her hand found only air.

For the thousandth time, she remembered that Tikki and her Ladybug powers were gone. The realization hadn't stopped stinging yet. She wondered if it ever would.

A flock of birds exploded around the corner, flapping hard as they ran away from whatever was making the marching music. Iridescent feathers floated through the air like dandelion fluff. Marinette sneezed.

When she looked up, she saw a crowd marching in lock-step down the middle of the street. The sun was at their backs, casting their expressionless faces into shadow. They were obviously bespelled. The two long, shadowy lines fell over them ominously.

Crouching down, she ducked behind a post-box and tried to figure out a way to help. The last of the marching people passed her position while her mind spun uselessly. Then the expected supervillain came marching into view.

He was dressed in a lime green, aqua, and lavender conductor's uniform. As he marched, he blew on the whistle in his mouth and swung a silver-headed baton. The akuma was probably in one of those. At his back, two columns of stacked musical instruments rose into the sky fifty feet high, the source of the ominous twin shadows heralding his presence on the street.

As she watched, a young couple jumped up from behind a car and tried to make a break for it, running towards the doors of a nearby store. The conductor flicked his baton at them. A black musical chord emerged from the tip, shooting out to encircle the couple mere feet from the door. Uselessly the man fought to get them free. The chord note separated into two eighth notes and dragged the clinging couple apart. They reached out for each other helplessly. Then the man's face went blank as the chord disappeared into his body. He turned and fell into step with the marching crowd.

The terrified woman had a different fate. Her note spun her around and flung her high up into the air. Lungs frozen in fear, Marinette's empty fingers jerked out, trying to catch the terrified woman with an imaginary yoyo. At the height of her arc, the screaming woman suddenly transformed into a blaring trombone. Then the sound cut off. The new musical instrument flew to the top of the column on the left. Once in place, the trombone seamlessly joined in on the marching song. Marinette felt helpless and sick.

Then something red flashed in the corner of her eye. "Stop right there," shouted a female voice. Wrenching her eyes up, Marinette saw Ladybug balanced on the top of a light pole, spinning her yoyo in one hand threateningly. It felt disorienting to see someone else do something she'd done so many times herself. Despite that discomfort, she felt grateful and relieved that help had arrived. Thank goodness the new Ladybug was taking her duties seriously. Paris needed Ladybug, even if that Ladybug had to be someone besides Marinette.

The conductor shot a measure of notes at Ladybug. She somersaulted over the assault and landed on the ground in a crouch, flicking out her yoyo at his feet. Marinette cheered, unable to help herself. He dodged and then counterattacked with a treble clef. 

Ladybug held her own in the fight. Then the column of instruments silently snuck up behind her. Before Marinette could call a warning, they released a blast of noise. Ladybug clutched at her head in pain, becoming disoriented and falling down.

"No!" Marinette cried as the conductor stabbed a sharp eighth note towards Ladybug's chest.

Before it could hit, a long, black pole interceded. The baton violently flung the note and conductor away from the vulnerable Ladybug. Marinette's heart jumped into her throat as her eyes desperately followed the baton back to its owner. It had been too long since she'd last seen Chat Noir, much too long.

The conductor’s flying body hit the column of his instruments and sent them crashing to the ground discordantly. With only half the band still playing, the marching people faltered, with some on the far edges straining to shuffle for side streets and escape.

"Don't touch my partner," Chat snarled as he jumped into the fray. Marinette waited for a pun about music to follow - something about going flat or being too sharp, out of tune or giving it a rest - but Chat stayed strangely silent. Her eyes drank in the sight of him, only to narrow as small discrepancies started to pop up. His features seemed grim instead of entertained; his eyes flat instead of sparkling. Chat looked just as dangerous and focused as ever, but all of the fun seemed to have disappeared from his fighting style.

"Oh, mon petit chaton," Marinette whispered achingly. He hadn't taken her disappearance very well, then. Poor Chat Noir and poor new Ladybug. She wished she could fix it for them.

Ladybug regained her feet and Chat dropped back to stand by her side. At least they seemed to be fighting well together. That made Marinette feel a little bit better.

Nevertheless, she desperately wanted to do something to help them. Before she could do more than stand up at the overwhelming feeling, the battle tumbled down the street and disappeared around the corner. Marinette tried to bring her hands up so she could race after them, only to be brought up short by the tug of her brace and the zing of pain from her shoulder.

 _You're still broken, remember?_ mocked the voice in her head. _They don't need you. Who would look at you without the Miraculous and see a hero? You're useless._ Sliding back to the ground, Marinette dropped her forehead onto the cold metal of the utility box and wept.

"I believe in you, Marinette. Even without magic, you can do amazing things," Tikki said earnestly.

Head shooting up, Marinette searched desperately for her friend, for any flash of red, but nothing was there. She was alone except for the voice in her memories. Letting out a shaky sigh, she sniffled and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

It may only be a memory, but Tikki's words still had power. Tikki had faith in her. She wouldn't want Marinette to wallow in self-pity.

Didn't Marinette have a plan for how to help, even diminished as she was? So she hadn't found anything today. So what? There were other areas with high numbers of attacks and other streets to search for signs of Hawk Moth. She would try again tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that, not stopping until she either found Hawk Moth or Ladybug and Chat Noir managed to defeat him on their own. Marinette would justify Tikki's faith and make the kwami proud of her. She wouldn't give up.

The sound of the marching band had disappeared. Either the fight had moved too far away or Ladybug and Chat Noir had triumphed. Marinette couldn't help with that. It was time to go home and work some more on her map.

* * *

 

Scratching carefully at an itch inside her armbrace a few days later, Marinette sighed with relief. She looked around for her friends. They were supposed to meet her here by the school steps for lunch. Seconds later, Alya strode up. Adrien and Nino converged from the other direction.

“Hey,” Marinette greeted, only to be bypassed as Alya hopped up to the top step and craned her head around.

"What are you doing?" Nino asked with amused fondness as he smiled up at his girlfriend.

"I found a phone in the library. The owner, a sophomore, had her email on it. She’s supposed to meet me here to get it back. As soon as she picks it up, we can go eat," Alya explained.

Within a minute, an athletic-looking girl came jogging over, eyes locked on Alya. She had caramel skin, a distinctive nose, and straight, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Marinette thought she looked familiar, but couldn't place from where. Out of nowhere, a headache bloomed behind her eyes and her head felt stuffy. She hoped she wasn’t coming down with something.

"Are you Alya?" the girl asked, out of breath.

Alya nodded with a smile. "And you must be Kenza. I love your taste in phone cases." She passed over a phone decorated with pictures of Ladybug and Chat Noir. Seeing it sent a pang through Marinette's heart and made her head ache more fiercely.

"Thank you so much. I'm always losing my phone.” Kenza scrunching up her face and shrugged with embarrassment.

"Are you by chance the Kenzabug who posts fanvideos of our superheroes online?" Alya asked coyly.

Kenza’s eyes widened and her cheeks turned pink. She gushed, “I can't believe you of all people know my fanvids! Some of them are pretty cheesy. However, I love the Ladyblog! It's practically the definitive work charting the rise of Ladybug and Chat Noir in Paris. You’re so talented."

Flattered, Alya's face brightened. "Well, it's always nice to meet a fellow professional. Are you planning on posting anymore videos soon? That new love ballad that just came out would be perfect for the two of them. You should use it!"

In response, Kenza became strangely awkward. "I haven't had a lot of time lately. Plus, I don't think the new Ladybug and Chat are like that."

Alya's featured sharpened. "So you believe that Ladybug is a completely different person now and not just a new evolution of the old Ladybug? The forums on my blog have been jumping with arguments ever since the mall bombing. No one knows for sure and neither Ladybug nor Chat Noir will comment on it. Both have been avoiding the press. They’ve even dodged me." She scowled.

"I couldn't say," Kenza said hesitantly. "Ladybug and Chat Noir will always be partners, but it's obvious that things are different now. Anyways, thanks again."

Waving away her thanks, Alya tucked her hands in her pockets. "Well, good luck keeping track of your phone."

"I need it. Luck is a lot more complicated that I used to realize," Kenza trailed off, then shook her head with a smile and slipped her phone into her bag.

Marinette saw a flash of familiar red in its shadowed depths and felt her breath catch. She pushed hard against the pressure inside her head. Feeling strangely weak, she slid down to sit on the steps but stubbornly refused to let her thoughts be muddled. That red flash was important. She didn’t want to forget about it.

Distantly she heard Kenza say, "Thanks again and sorry for the inconvenience." Marinette’s hands rose, but then fell just as quickly, as if forgetting their purpose. The movement caught Kenza’s gaze as she turned to go.

The freshman gave her a polite smile, and then did a double-take on meeting Marinette’s blue eyes. Kenza’s face went white. She stumbled forward, grabbing convulsively at Marinette's uninjured hand. Marinette didn’t resist. Kenza leaned down and feverishly examined Marinette’s face. "Marinette? Is that really you?” Tears sprang into the girl's eyes. “I couldn’t find you anywhere. Your hair's shorter now and you have a sling on. Are you alright?"

Dazed, Marinette could barely think through the pain in her head. She pushed against it. Her friends looked on in confusion.

"It's me, Kenza, remember?" the other girl whispered desperately, kneeling down on the step below to look up into her face.

A wave of pressure crashed over Marinette’s mind and then drained away. Everything suddenly seemed crystal clear. Her eyes stung. Pressing her lips together, Marinette nodded. "I remember." Salty tears trickled into her mouth when she spoke. Turning her hand, she clutched convulsively at Kenza's fingers and leaned forward. “I remember you.”

She just hoped that her lingering luck magic would mute any negative effects from the revelation. It had for Marlene, so hopefully it would for Marinette too. The pop hadn’t seemed too bad. Not saying the “L” word had probably helped. However, the moment was too overwhelming to worry about the technicalities.

Tears streaming down her face, Kenza asked, "Can I hug you?"

Nodding, Marinette fell into her careful embrace. They clutched at each other and wept, sisters of the Spots. From the opening of Kenza's bag, a small hand snuck out and squeezed the fingers hanging out of the sling on Marinette's chest. Marinette squeezed back, unbearably gratefully.

Finally they separated. Kenza wiped a sleeve across her face and then beamed. Marinette couldn't help but smile back. "I'm so happy I found you again," Kenza said.

"I am, too." Marinette sniffled and wished for a tissue. "You've been doing a good job." She rushed to say, wanting to make sure she didn't forget. She’d always wanted someone who knew the truth to say that to her.

Wiping her face roughly, Kenza looked away uncomfortably. "I'm a mess." Fresh tears trickled down her cheeks.

Suddenly, two tissues dangled in the air in front of their noses. Adrien shook them promptingly until they were taken. "Thanks," Marinette said, wiping her nose.

"Is everything alright?" he asked. "How do you two know each other?" A look of almost comprehension flashed on his face, but it drifted into confusion under the strange weight of the ensuing silence.

Drying her swollen eyelids, Marinette looked around at the faces of her friends. Nino looked helpless and upset in the face of their tears while Alya looked concerned and protective. She couldn't read Adrien's face beyond compassion. No one played poker like Adrien.

"Kenza helped me when I was hurt at the mall," she finally explained simply. Everyone stiffened at her words. Marinette didn't talk about what happened at the mall. Not ever.

"Marinette saved my life first. I lost track of her in the chaos. When I went back to find her, she'd already been rescued and was gone. Because of privacy laws, I couldn't find out what had happened to her. I tried to sneak into the hospital, but had no luck. My friend and I have been trying to find you ever since," Kenza explained earnestly.

At her words, a frozen spot in Marinette's heart melted and began to heal. The friend must be Tikki. Marinette hadn't been discarded and forgotten after all.  

They exchanged cell phone numbers and promised to meet up again. Then Kenza left. Marinette couldn’t stop smiling through lunch. Alya tried to subtly get a little more information out of Marinette about the mall and if she’d seen what had happened to Ladybug, but Marinette simply redirected the conversation to Nino’s newest music venture. The world now seemed a little bit warmer. Winter was over and spring was here.

* * *

 

"Thank you so much for meeting up with me," Kenza said as she sprawled back on her hands next to Marinette on the grass and halfway unzipped her jacket.

"It's no problem, really," Marinette waved her one good hand dismissively. "I'm not that busy anymore, so I'm desperate for distractions."

Kenza's face went awkward for a moment. "Sorry." Then she cleared her throat and sat upright. "My life's become completely crazy. It's hard to believe you did this for years without becoming either a zombie or spree killer." Wincing, she added, "That sounded wrong. Sorry."

Laughing, Marinette sent her a smile. "I used to worry about that myself. Luckily we have Tikki to help us stay sane and now you have me too. If you need to complain, that's fine. I always wanted someone to vent to."

"Really? That sounds great." Kenza gave her a grateful nod.

"Why don’t you tell her about the battle this morning," Tikki encouraged from where she lounged inside Kenza’s bag.

Flopping onto her back, Kenza flung an arm up over her eyes. "Ugh, this morning. I don't understand how people can get akumatized over the stupidest things. This guy got stuck in traffic and then spilled his coffee on himself. His road rage turned him into a monster truck driving menace thanks to Hawk Moth. I popped the tires on his ride while Chat Noir stole his car keys and released the akuma for me to purify."

Dropping her arm, Kenza pushed herself back up with a gleam in her eyes. "Oh, did I tell you that I somehow have a fencing foil in addition to the yoyo? It folds down into a short stick that hangs on my belt. It doesn't go super long like Chat's baton, but it's still pretty sweet. I’m on the fencing club at school, so I know how to use it.” Shaking her head, she got back on topic, “Anyways, the fight this morning was pretty frustrating until we settled on a plan."

"What do you mean?" Marinette tilted her head, trying to be supportive instead of second guessing and feeling jealous.

Kenza blew out a breath. "Chat and I still haven't found a balance during fights. He keeps expecting me to be you, and when I'm not, he gets thrown and shuts down. He’s either gloomy or giving me a stink face. I’m trying not to blame him, but it’s hard for me too! Plus, I guess you were an amazing strategist. I try, but my plans are never good enough for him. Yet when I wait for him to tell me what to do, he forgets and asks me what I think last minute, and then takes it back before I finish talking. Like I said, it's frustrating. We're both adjusting."

"I'm sorry, that sounds difficult for you both," Marinette said sympathetically. "Are you responding to his puns? That always cheers him up, especially when you pun back."

Grimacing, Kenza said, "There haven't been any puns."

Marinette felt winded. "What? No puns?" This was serious. "Poor Chat needs help."

"He's still mourning your loss. Maybe you could talk to him?" Kenza suggested delicately.

"No." Marinette was adamant. She couldn't, not looking like this. Not when she was useless and couldn't help him. Not when he'd pity her. Plus, he still couldn't give her his identity without tripping the spell and weakening Ladybug, but he was silly enough and loyal enough to try anyway. When she could feel like his equal again, instead of so inferior, then she’d tell him. Laying the location of Hawk Moth at his feet would work.

"Fine," Kenza sighed, "then what would you suggest?"

Looking into the distance, Marinette mulled over how to help her friend. "You're going to have to work to cheer him up. Once he gets over his funk, I know you'll love working with him. He's an amazing partner."

"Okay, tell me what to do," Kenza rummaged in her bag and pulled out a notebook and pen. Writing, ‘ _Cheer Up Chat Noir Ideas!’_ at the top of the page, she looked up expectantly.

Grateful for her willingness, Marinette started with a list of Chat's favorite snacks. "But he's not naturally a snacker, so you'll have to eat with him or he won't touch it. He worries about his weight like a girl."

Lips twitching, Kenza scribbled the foods down. "Okay, what else besides snacks?"

"Puns," Marinette said seriously. "Any sort of pun will do, but the best are any wordplay on cats, bugs, or the villain you're facing. He finds those most amusing."

"Right, right, what are some examples?" Kenza asked studiously.

Casting her mind back, Marinette felt her lips tilt up as she pictured Chat's self-amused grin. "Things like: cat's got your tongue, that's pawsome or clawsome, you're the cat's meow, I'll cat-ch up, what's bugging you, let’s bug out, is your memory going spotty, Ladybug? That sort of thing. The cornier the better."

Kenza snorted. "Maybe I'll do an internet search and print off a list to memorize." She smiled over at Marinette. "I really do want to be his friend."

"I'm sure it won't be long until he treats you just as good as he treated me," Marinette reassured her.

However, Kenza's smile faded and she shook her head. "That's unreasonable. We aren't the same and I don't expect him to forget that. I just want his respect and friendship. It will take time, but I know we'll get there, especially now that you're helping me."

Cocking her head, Kenza bit her lip, then asked, "Did you see that advertising spread _Gabriel_ put out a just before Valentine’s with the models dressed up as a high-fashion Ladybug and Chat Noir?"

Confused and uncomfortable, Marinette nodded. "Of course, who hasn't?" There was no need to mention her obsession with the images.

Kenza spoke carefully. "I know it's just a glamorous illusion created to sell jewelry, but the photos make me think of your real relationship with Chat Noir. The models did a really good job showing the trust, the closeness, the fierce partnership and even love shared by Ladybug and Chat Noir." Marinette gave a wordless noise of protest and pain, but Kenza kept speaking. "Chat and I don't have that kind of relationship. I'm okay with that. We'll just have to figure out a new type of partnership together. I promised you when I took the earrings that he'd be a brother to me. I even think he’ll enjoy having a little sister once I break through his reserve.

“However, the feelings Chat and you shared were not platonic and they’re not just going to go away. Both of you need some closure about your partnership. It’s up to you whether you try to create a new type of relationship or gently close chapter on the old one, but when you're ready, you need to talk to him about your feelings so you can both move on. Until then," she reached out and clasped Marinette's trembling hand, "I'll take care of him for you, starting with revival of the puns."

Clearing her throat, Kenza changed the subject. “So what are you up to lately? Anything fun?”

“Well,” Marinette said slowly, “not exactly fun, but now that I have time, I’ve started looking for patterns in Hawk Moth’s attacks that might lead us to his base of operations.”

“That sounds useful. Let me know if your research turns anything up so Chat and I can check it out,” Kenza said.

Marinette felt condescended to, even though Kenza probably didn’t mean it that way. “That’s the plan,” she said with barely suppressed irritation. “I’ve been going on patrols through the likely areas looking for clues. Once I find his lair, I’ll let the two of you know where it is so you can take care of Hawk Moth for good.”

Brow winkling, Kenza folded her arms. “That doesn’t sound safe. What if you get caught? Or hurt? Maybe you should leave the patrols up to the professionals.”

Marinette’s lips thinned. “In case you forgot, I was a professional for years whereas you’ve been doing this for less than two months.”

“Marinette! Kenza! Don’t fight,” Tikki admonished.

Kenza winced. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out the way I intended. I’m just worried about you.”

Huffing, Marinette flexed her fingers and pushed away her irritation. Tikki was right. “No, I’m sorry too, but I know my limits and patrolling won’t tax them. I won’t do anything stupid. However, I have to do something to help. I may not have the powers anymore, but I can’t just stop caring, can’t just shut off the need to protect the people of Paris. Even if I can’t swing from up high or even run very well nowadays, I still have eyes and a brain.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt again, that’s all. I’m not doubting you. As the new Ladybug, I am intimately familiar with how the spots don’t magically make you good at everything. It’s pretty clear to me that most of that was just you. I know you’re amazing, Marinette,” she assured her fervently.

Kenza’s sincerity made Marinette blush. “You’re doing a great job, too. Don’t sell yourself short. Just because we do the job differently, doesn’t mean it doesn’t get done well.” They shared a smile.

“I think you’re both amazing,” Tikki chimed in approvingly.

“Just promise me you’ll call first thing if you find anything,” Kenza said. “Chat would kill me if anything happened to you. Plus, I’d hate to lose out on my mentor and new best friend. Please?”

“I promise,” Marinette reassured her. “If I find something, I’ll even send pictures.”


	16. Success Comes At a Cost

 

Marinette had spent weeks wandering the streets of Paris as she slowly healed. Every week she added new dots to her map tracking Hawk Moth's attacks. Nevertheless, she still hadn't found anything. It was hard not to get discouraged.

At least Chat Noir seemed to be getting along better with Ladybug. Kenza had dutifully followed the ‘ _Cheer Up Chat!’_ plan and relayed his progress each time they talked. Unfortunately, telling Kenza to feed Chat Noir raspberry macarons had been a disaster. He'd shut down and refused to talk to Ladybug for the rest of the week unless absolutely necessary.

Luckily, the trail mix Kenza tried next had lightened his mood. The chocolate croissants Marinette stashed on a rooftop for them had finished the job of coaxing him back to friendliness. As for the puns, Kenza only had to use half the list they'd brainstormed together before Chat finally broke down and began responding.

True to her promise, Kenza teased Chat like an older brother and he had started to respond in kind by teasing her back. Alya had even caught a shot of him grinning with his elbow on an exasperated Ladybug's head last week for the Ladyblog. It wasn't as carefree a smile as he used to have, and his eyes seemed more the green of grass in late summer than of early spring, but Marinette just felt so grateful that he seemed to be hurting less.

Now if she could just get up her courage to give Kenza the go-ahead to give him her name and number. At first, she hadn't wanted him to see her when she was so injured. She feared seeing his face fall with disappointment at her identity. Then she started worrying about undermining his fragile relationship with the new Ladybug. What if he insisted on telling her his real identity and weakened Kenza and Tikki too much to fight? He didn’t think as strategically as she did. Though if she were honest, she was also more known for being stubbornly unreasonable than he was.

This morning, she'd decided that she was overthinking things. As soon as her shoulder healed enough for her to wrap her arms up and around him in a big hug, she'd step up and introduce herself as Marinette. That gave her a couple of weeks, maybe a month to get over the anxiety. Baring another magical necessity, she wouldn’t back out. She’d even promised the stuffed Tikki on her wall to go through with it.

The sound of a car horn broke her from her musings. Checking her watch, Marinette squeaked. She could only search for twenty minutes more. Then she had to get home and work on her essay for school tomorrow.

Marinette had returned to the first neighborhood she'd searched. Although the area around the high school had seen more attacks, it also saw way more traffic. This nearby, sleepy neighborhood seemed a much better place to hide from a strategic standpoint. It also stood on a slight hill, so it overlooked the surrounding area.

Choosing a street she hadn't gone down before, she began walking. She went slow enough to examine the area as she passed for clues. Most of the surrounding buildings sat on large lots with big houses and yards surrounded by tall fences. No one else was going her direction and soon the streets emptied of people.

The emptiness made it easier to notice the pack of four teenaged boys sprawled on the steps of a large house up ahead. Something about them made her uneasy, so she turned at the corner so she wouldn’t have to walk by them. A minute later, a burst of laughter at her back made her realize that they’d gotten up and followed. Marinette picked up her pace and crossed the street, hoping to lose them.

Instead, they closed the distance. “Wait up, baby, we just want to talk,” one of them called. Another whistled in her direction. When she ignored them, the laughter turned ugly. Their catcalls became laced with profanity.

Marinette looked around frantically, but she'd wandered into a residential area full of fences and gated driveways. There weren't a lot of options for escape. At the corner, she took a sharp turn and began to run. The pace jogged her shoulder painfully, but weeks of walking patrols had increased her stamina and she had too much discipline to let a little pain make her falter. Once out of sight of the shouting boys, she forced herself to sprint. She ducked down an alley between two mansions, then took the next left and ducked onto a narrow, cobblestone street. It hadn’t been repaired in a while, so she had to watch her step. Her eyes darted past a faded sign reading, “Shooting Star lane.” Something about that seemed familiar, but she didn't have the time to remember out why. Just out of sight, the boys were calling for her to come back and shouting threats.

Her energy was flagging and her shoulder was screaming at her to stop. Up ahead on the shadowed street, a stray cat startled at the sound of her slapping feet and backed up through a loose fencepost into the neighboring estate. The gap looked just barely big enough for her to fit into. She’d have to trust in her petite Chinese genes. Marinette took her arm out of the sling. Then, expelling all of her breath, she ducked down and wiggled through the hole. The edges of the fence scraped skin off her side and bruised her knee. Her shoulder brace caught for a terrifying moment, but she managed to wrench it free and push through to the other side.

Marinette found herself in an abandoned garden. Wincing, she put her arm back in its brace and looked around. There might have once been order, but the plants had gone wild and the hedges were overgrown and shaggy. Crouched between a hedge and the wall, she could only see the right side of the yard. About a hundred yards away across the tangle of weeds stood a wall. She could just make out on the other side a well-manicured area of grass and trees and the distant edge of a mansion roof.

"Where'd she go?” cried a nearby voice. Marinette scrunched down against the wall and stayed as quiet as a bunny as the gang of boys pounded into Shooting Star Lane.

“She couldn't have gone far, especially not injured like that." The voices came from only a few feet away on the other side of the fence.

Someone kicked a bottle. The sound of it rolling over stone and then shattering echoed in the narrow street. “Maybe she’s gone. Why don’t we just leave her alone and go play video games or something?” A new voice suggested uncomfortably.

"No, she's gotta be around here somewhere and I’m bored of video games,” a mean voice said, dashing Marinette’s hopes. “She can entertain us instead.”

“Scaring her is one thing, but I’m not interested in hurting a girl. I’m out. I’ll be playing games on my Nintendo Switch if anyone wants to join me. Later,” he said.

“I’ll come too,” a nervous voice said and two sets of footsteps walked off.

“Whatever. Who needs them? The two of us’ll split up and keep looking. Give a holler if you find her. We'll drag her back to my house and have some fun. My parents are out of town, like always." The boy's voice dropped with relish at his ugly plans.

Anger and fear swirled in her breast. Two was better odds than four, but still too many for her right now. Having only one working shoulder sucked. If she still had her Miraculous earrings, she'd teach them a harsh lesson they'd never forget. Unfortunately, she was on her own here. However, normal women dealt with crap like this all of the time. She could do it too.

Luckily, the boys didn’t notice the loose board in the fence. Splitting up, they sped away from her hiding place. Things became quiet except for the singing insects colonizing the surrounding weeds. Not trusting them to have gone very far, Marinette decided to explore the overgrown yard. Maybe she'd get lucky and find a helpful gardener or a gate to the nicely manicured estate on the other side of the fence.

Wiggling out from behind the bushes, Marinette noticed a strange, round building practically covered in vines to her left. Although logic said she should go right to try and find a gate in the wall, Marinette's curiosity had her drifting left. Chat Noir had always scolded her for going left. Lips twisting nostalgically, she pushed her way through the tall weeds, trying not to trip. The bottom of the building seemed to almost disappear into the climbing vines. Walking around the building, she discovered a large, circular window dominating the far side.

Suddenly the window's dark covering swirled open, like the aperture of a camera lens. Marinette instinctively crouched down into the cover of the tall weeds. The circular window had decorative, leaded lines curling out from the center in the shape of flower petals. Curiously, the center of the flower window was completely open without any glass, as if to let a telescope through to point at the sky. The window stood out in the midst of the neglect and chaos all around with its sparkling clean glass and ordered lines. 

Staring at it, she felt a surge of deja vu. _Where had she seen that flower patterned window before?_ Then it hit her.

Muscles weakening, Marinette plopped down onto her behind. This was _Marie Agreste's_ observatory. She’d recognized the window from the photograph taken by Dr. Ogbore. Shooting Star drive bordered the Agreste estate. That distant mansion on the other side of the manicured lawn had to be Adrien's house.

_How strange._ Adrien had mentioned that he didn’t know where his mother’s observatory was. Maybe Gabriel Agreste had let the observatory and grounds fall into neglect after Marie's accident.

_But if it was abandoned, who had just opened the covering on the window?_

Curiosity had her creeping forward. Through the opening, she faintly heard the sound of a man's voice. She couldn't make out the words, but something about the tone made her stomach start to churn with anxiety.

Fear smothered her curiosity. She should have gone right to find a gate out, not turned left to the mysterious and creepy building. This had been a bad idea. If she wasn't careful, she was going to turn into one of those stupid girls in a horror movie.

Marinette began wiggling backwards when she saw a black butterfly fly out of the observatory window – an intimately familiar black butterfly. Stunned, she froze. Her eyes refused to blink until the black butterfly disappeared into the distance.

Hawk Moth's Lair was in the observatory. _She'd found it!_ Without super powers or luck magic, she – plain old Marinette – had tracked down Hawk Moth’s lair.

_Ha!_

Fumbling out her phone, she took a picture of the building and its distinctive window. Marinette immediately sent it to Kenza. Instead of typing an explanation, she hit the call button. Seconds later, she realized that Ladybug was probably going to be too busy fighting the person evilized by that black butterfly to respond or check her phone.

_Besides, what if Marinette was wrong and this wasn't it?_ It would be mortifying if her first meeting with Chat since her retirement was over a false alarm. _And what about poor Adrien?_ _How would she explain why she'd invited Paris's superheroes to break into his dead mother’s observatory?_

Just then, the phone clicked over to voicemail. “Hi Kenza,” she began, “this may be a false alarm, but I think I finally found Hawk Moth’s lair on one of my patrols!” Marinette had to stop and just breathe for a moment after that monumental statement. _To think that Hawk Moth might finally be defeated after so long…._

Waking up from her daze, she realized that she needed to finish the message before it cut off. Hurriedly she continued, “I texted you a photo of the place the black butterfly came out from. I just need to get a little more evidence since this building belongs to my friend Adrien’s mom. I don’t want Adrien hurt if I’m wrong, but don’t worry, I’ll be careful. If I catch even a glimpse of Hawkmoth, I’ll immediately turn around and leave. Good luck on the fight and call me as soon as you get this. I’ll put my phone on silent, just in case. Talk to you soon.”

Hanging up the phone, she ignored the imaginary Tikki warning her that investigating by herself wasn't a good idea. It wasn’t like she was going to confront Hawk Moth if she found him. She just needed to get more proof.

Her phone battery read 26%. Hopefully the phone wouldn’t die before she finished. Just in case the worse happened and she got caught, Marinette decided to give herself a little bit more insurance. With a few taps to the screen, she had her phone set to upload all new photos and videos immediately to her cloud account. It would drain the battery faster, but better safe than really sorry.

Then she texted Kenza again:

_If I don’t answer my phone, I’ll upload everything to my cloud. Password Tikki1sGr8._

Taking a deep breath, she tucked away her phone. Then Marinette crept up to the building and began looking for a way inside. On the far side she found a cleared pathway and a door. It was locked. However, a nearby tree had overgrown branches spreading over the edge of the building. She might be able to climb up the tree and then jump down onto the roof. There was probably a hatch or door up there she could use to get in.

Of course, she'd have to do the climbing and jumping with only one good arm. _Could she make it?_ Maybe, but there was a better than even chance she'd break her other arm in the process. Being an overachiever, she might even snap her neck.

Stymied, she circled the observatory again. If she didn't find something reasonable soon, she'd have to leave. The sun was perilously close to setting and she did not want to be stuck in the dark next to Hawkmoth's hypothetical lair. A glint beneath the brown husk of a climbing vine caught her eye. Moving forward, she found a fire ladder bolted to the side of the building. Years of invasive weeds had hidden it from view.

She should probably just leave to fetch backup. That's what Tikki would suggest. Marinette knew that. However, she also felt that she was smart enough and strong enough to get this information by herself. If Hawk Moth really was in there, she had to go. No one had ever gotten this close before. If she didn't go and he disappeared, it could be years before they got this close again. Marinette had to risk it.

Stepping forward, she began climbing the ladder. The first few rungs weren’t that bad. But all too soon, it became a tricky prospect with the rungs covered in wobbly foliage and only one usable hand. Having second thoughts, she tried to go back down. Unfortunately, she couldn’t balance going down and almost fell. Marinette had no choice but to continue.

Slipping and straining as she climbed, sweat quickly stung her eyes and soaked through her shirt. Her muscles trembled and quivered, barely responding. Finally she flopped over the top of the ladder and onto the roof with a groan.

At this point, Marinette regretted everything. She lay on her back and caught her breath. Pulling out her phone, she tried calling Kenza again. This time, it didn’t even ring, just went straight to voice mail. “This is Marinette again. I’m stuck on the roof of the observatory. Yes, I realize it was a dumb idea. Please rescue me. Or call me. Either works. Thanks.”

Marinette definitely didn't have the strength to climb back down without killing herself. Sitting up with a whine, she decided she might as well keep going. In a stroke of pure luck, the trapdoor on the roof had been left unlocked. It obviously hadn't been opened in a long time, because the hinges made a horribly shrill sound when she forced it up. Freezing, she waited for someone to come running.

Nothing happened.

Finally she stepped inside and let the door swing shut slowly. The hinges squealed again. Wincing, she let it close almost all the way, stopping it up with her good shoulder while she pulled a sticky piece of vine off her shirt and wedged it in the latch so it wouldn’t lock behind her. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and then climbed down.

At the bottom of a short staircase, she found a metal walkway. Clutching her phone tightly, she snuck forward. The walkway went the length of the wall, turned a corner, and became a descending staircase. Creeping down, Marinette recognized the flower-shaped window dominating the opposite wall. The cover had closed again, keeping the room dim. No light escaped through the cover to help illuminate the space. It was hard to see anything.

It wasn’t quiet, though. A faint rustling echoed through the large space, just barely noticeable. It gave her goosebumps.

As she came around another bend in the stairs, she noticed a faint glow coming from down below. It seemed like the great space was divided up into several levels. Suddenly a tall, thin figure stomped into the light. He seemed to be talking to himself. Marinette aimed her phone camera in his direction and hit record, but he wasn't talking loudly enough for her to understand it at this distance. Then he disappeared around the corner and down another staircase.

"I have to get closer so we can tell if this is Hawk Moth or Adrien’s dad," Marinette whispered into the phone.  Stopping the recording so it could upload to her cloud, she snuck down the rest of the way and carefully eased around another corner. She was on the middle level of the large room. On the right side down below sat a desk and lamp, the source of the glow. A short metal staircase against the left wall led down to the lower level. A stack of large boxes sat in one corner. Dark wheel marks on the floor made her think that they were relatively new. Squinting, she could make out writing on the side of the boxes: _This side up - Fragile Equipment - Bass Family Telescopes, Inc._

Glancing around quickly, she took a deep breath, pressed herself to the wall, and slunk down the exposed staircase to the bottom floor.

When she reached the bottom, she saw Gabriel Agreste glide into view on the opposite side of the large room. He drifted to a stop by his desk. The lamplight illuminated the despondent lines of his face. "I've failed you again, Marie."

At his words, Marinette fumbled at her phone and almost dropping it. _Had she made a horrible mistake?_ Perhaps that had just been a regular butterfly after all and not an akuma. _Was she just intruding on Mr. Agreste's private grief?_ His bruised, bloodshot eyes sat above unusually sharp cheekbones, like he’d lost weight he couldn’t afford to lose. He looked slightly unhinged, like he hadn’t slept well in months. _Poor man._

Disappointment dragged at her already taxed muscles. She’d been wrong. Switching apps, she texted: _Not Hawk Moth after all. Sry._ Ashamed, Marinette turned to leave when she heard the click of footsteps up above.

Frantically her eyes searched the room. _She had to hide!_ In desperation, she finally slid beneath the stairs and crouched in the corner. He might not be Hawk Moth, but Gabriel Agreste still had quite the temper. It was unlikely he’d forgive anyone for breaking into his dead wife’s observatory, especially not as rough as he looked. He’d probably even ban Adrien from ever seeing her again. He’d kicked out Nino for less. Getting caught would be a disaster!

_About to get caught. Ack!_ – she texted miserably. Despite having lots of practice, making up excuses wasn't one of her strengths. Nevertheless, Marinette prepared a story for why she'd snuck in here.

However, she got distracted when Mr. Agreste suddenly swung on his heel and glared down at his desk. "He didn't last more than ten minutes. This is unacceptable. I'm running out of time to secure my son's forgiveness and understanding, much less bring back my beloved. Ruling the world is meaningless without them by my side. My envoys need to be more powerful, but how? Tell me!" he thundered.

Into the heavy silence, something small and pink flew up from the desk. Marinette gasped as she recognized a kwami. Everything clicked into place: _I was right and this_ is _his home base!_ _Gabriel Agreste is Hawk Moth!!_

"I don't know what to say," the pink kwami said in a defeated tone of voice as he floated over in front of the closed window. "The butterflies are drawn to and influenced by strong emotion. You send them to those with negative feelings. They become powerful, but they are alone against two strong adversaries. Perhaps if you joined up with your envoy, it would be enough to defeat Ladybug and Chat Noir."

Lunging forward, Gabriel snatched up a book off his desk and threw it at the kwami. It barely missed, hitting the window with a loud smack. The kwami flinched along with Marinette. What she had dismissed as a white rug turned out to be a swarm of white butterflies covering the floor. Startled, they rose up into the air. The loud sound of their wings hopefully covered Marinette's cry as she jumped and rammed her shoulder painfully against the wall.

Through watering eyes she typed, “ _Gabriel Agreste = Hawk Moth!!!_ ” Then she snapped a quick picture and sent it to Kenza. The app showed that her earlier texts still hadn't even been seen yet. A sick feeling swooped through her stomach, but she tried to ignore it and how Mr. Agreste berated his poor kwami in the background. Hawk Moth’s identity was heartbreaking and unbelievable. _Poor Adrien. He didn't deserve this. What if he lost his father now, too?_

Although she didn't want to do anything to cause Adrien pain, this was too big. Hawk Moth couldn't be allowed to continue his reign of terror. Hopefully Adrien would forgive her one day. Either way, she couldn’t turn her back on this.

Pressing her lips together, Marinette texted again – _LB n Chat have to stop him. I'm trapped. Plz come quick!_ She sent another photo of Gabriel and the pink kwami just in case.

The footsteps up above got softer and drifted away. Marinette released a shaky breath. Gabriel sat down behind his desk and began flipping impatiently through an old and fragile looking book. The person up above wasn't near the stairs, but she could definitely still hear them moving around up there. She couldn't escape until they were gone. It was too open to not be seen, even with most of the lights off and the room dim. Marinette thought about trying to fight her way out, but with a bad shoulder, she wasn't confident of doing much. If she couldn’t take out two teenaged boys, she definitely couldn’t take out Hawk Moth by herself.

Gabriel picked up his phone and made a call. While he placed an order for more books, she tried to figure out what to do. She couldn’t stay crouched in the shadows beneath the metal staircase forever. Someone only had to look down as they walked to see her. Pink and gray were not good colors for hiding in the dark.

The phone in her hand vibrated. Hope of Kenza finally coming to rescue her made her heart leap, only to crash down as she instead read a notification for dangerously low battery. Marinette tried calling Kenza again. She still didn’t pick up.

Up above, she heard a door open and close. A second pair of footsteps joined the ones up above and the sound of an indistinct conversation drifted down. Now it would be even more difficult to escape up the stairs.

Blowing out a shaky breath, Marinette started an audio-only recording, hoping the battery would last long enough. If she got caught, at least her last moments would be recorded and hopefully sent to the cloud for Kenza to find. She would go out bravely.

The pressure of the situation made something in her mind abruptly crystalize. She had to leave a final message, just in case. Lifting the phone to her lips, she began whispering her goodbyes. Voice becoming rough with emotion, Marinette stopped and harshly swallowed the lump in her throat. She had to stay calm. "Maybe Chat can go to the bakery and tell my parents what happened? I’d like it to come from him. Also, make sure you have a plan, Ladybug, don’t just rush over here and don't let Chat do it either. Remember that Hawk Moth's smart and very dangerous. Be careful. I'm almost out of battery, so good luck and… goodbye." Stopping the recording, she crossed her fingers until it finished uploading to her cloud.

The battery symbol flashed red as the sound of clicking footsteps came closer and closer. Gulping, Marinette started what would probably be her final audio recording and slid the phone into her sling to leave her hand free. A woman in designer heels walked down the metal steps directly above her. Marinette scrunched down and held her breath.

Nathalie, Gabriel's assistant, reached the bottom, stopped to glance around, and then walked towards the desk with a folder clasped against her chest. "Here is the research you asked for, Sir."

"Did you include the translations this time?" he demanded.

Nathalie straightened her back. "Yes, sir."

"Good," he grunted, "is there anything else?"

"There’s a boy hiding under the stairs, Sir.” Nathalie's voice held no particular emotion, so it took a second for Marinette to realize she'd been discovered.

"Well, drag him out then," Gabriel ordered, standing up from his chair with annoyance but no real alarm.

Marinette jumped to her feet and tried to run up the stairs, but the air was suddenly full of white moths. They fluttered up against her face, making her flinch back. A loud thud sounded at her back as Adrien's bodyguard jumped down from the upper level. She dodged the first swipe of his meaty fingers and forced her way through the swarm of moths to dash up the stairs towards freedom.

"Must I do everything myself?" Gabriel growled. A cane appeared out of nowhere, sweeping her legs and sending her crashing down onto the stairs. Marinette cried out in shock and pain.

"Got him," the bodyguard growled, pulling Marinette up by her good arm and dragging her over to stand in the lamplight. Her shoulder sparked with bolts of pain. She'd broken open her lip on a stair. It throbbed and dribbled hot blood down her chin to drip on the icy-cold fingers trapped in her sling. Turning her head, she wiped her chin off on her shoulder and then carefully probed the wound with her tongue.

"Oh!" Nathalie exclaimed, one hand rising to point at Marinette, only to freeze in midair. Regret flashed across her face. She bit her lip, clasped her hands behind her back, and reassumed her professional mask. "That's not a boy, Sir."

"He's got short hair, though. You sure?" the bodyguard shook her roughly. Marinette couldn't bite back her cry of pain.

Gabriel picked up his cane and then came over to look down his nose at her. "She’s obviously a girl from her delicate features and style of dress. Not that it matters."

"She's one of Adrien's school friends, Sir." Nathalie didn’t meet anyone's eyes as she spoke.

For a moment, the arrogance on Gabriel's face cracked. He looked conflicted. It gave Marinette a moment of hope and her mind raced, trying to figure out how to take advantage of this. Gabriel gave her a narrow-eyed look, as if weighing his options, "Hnn."

"I'm so sorry for coming in. Please let me go." She looked for a glimmer of softness in his eyes.

Mr. Agreste looked her up and down analytically. "Don't be ridiculous. Obviously I can’t let you go now." His minions waited quietly for his orders. For _Hawk Moth's_ orders.

Appealing to Hawk Moth’s heart seemed ludicrous, but this was also Adrien's dad. Maybe he could be swayed. "Please, Mr. Agreste. Adrien is one of my best friends. We've met before. I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng, remember? I've eaten Christmas dinner at your house. I’m a fashion designer too. I won your derby hat challenge three years ago using pigeon feathers. Just today, I sat across from your son in physics. He helped carry my backpack to history. Then we shared pastries from my parent's bakery during lunch. Please don't hurt me." The corners of his mouth drooped. Did that mean he was weakening? "You're a good person." Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to hurry past it. "You're Adrien's dad. He deserves better. He shouldn't have to lose anyone else."

Immediately Gabriel's eyes became steel. She'd said something wrong, but it was too late. He stepped back and nodded sharply. "You're right. Adrien does deserve better. He deserves to have his mother back. I'm going to make that happen."

Marinette blinked in confusion and tried to ignore the pain radiating sharply down her arm and back from her shoulder. "I don’t understand. How?" A moth fluttered down to land on the bloody fingers in her sling. Its wings turned from white to gray. Not black, _gray_. Unnerved, she shook her hand, sending it flying back into the shadows.

Narrow gray eyes looked her up and down unnervingly and then glanced over at the carpet of white moths. His thin lips tilted up almost imperceptibly. "Perhaps with your help," he mused.

Turning, he walked over to his desk. Pulling open a drawer, he reverently lifted out a picture frame holding a photo of his wife, Marie. He propped it up on the desk and stepped back, staring at it longingly.

"I'd like to help you," Marinette said carefully, "but I'd feel better if Adrien was here. Can we call him while we talk about this? Please? Maybe together we can figure out a way to make things better."

Not acknowledging her words, Gabriel folded his hands behind his back. "Did you hear about Ladybug's actions during the recent terrorist attack at the Beaugrenelle mall?"

Throat dry, she didn't answer.

Unperturbed, he continued. "Using her magic, she brought everyone killed in the attack back to life. I will take Ladybug's power and use it to bring my wife and the mother of my son back to life. I will use the magic to heal her body and her mind. Then I will rule the world with my wife and son by my side. Together forever, as it was meant to be."

Tears of pity and terror pricked her eyes. "The magic doesn't work that way."

Whirling, he skewered her with an angry gaze. "What do you know about it? An ignorant school girl panting after a boy far above your station? Nothing, that's what."

Flinching, Marinette tried to force steel into her spine. She might as well just say what she was thinking, since it couldn't get much worse than her current situation. "I'm sorry, but I do know. The magic won't bring your wife back. You have to know that it's been too long. She passed almost six months ago. Heaven holds her in its embrace. One day she'll welcome you all with love, but you need to accept that her time here on Earth is over. Your plan won’t work.

“Also, you’re going to lose Adrien too if you don't start giving him more of your time and attention. Your son needs a father, not a dictator. He needs your love. Can't you let go of this obsession and try to focus on him instead? I think you'd like the young man he's become if you spent the time to get to know him."

Turning his face to the shadows, Gabriel paced back and forth in front of the round window, sending clouds of white butterflies up into the air. "How dare you say such things,” he growled lowly. “I tire of this game.”

Stopping, he turned to look her in the face, suddenly calm but with eyes glinting insanely. “I’ve been using people with dark emotions to power my akumas, but they need more power to win against the partnership of Ladybug and Chat Noir. Instead of doubling up on minions, I’m going to try doubling-up the emotional charge in the akuma. In fact, your arrival is very fortuitous."

"I'm not going to help you hurt people," Marinette vowed, straining futilely against the hands holding her in place.

"You don't have a choice," Gabriel drawled. "My butterflies will feed off your physical and mental pain with or without your consent. Then my minions will finally be strong enough to take Ladybug's and Chat Noir's Miraculouses." He bit off the word with a click of his teeth, then shrugged. "And if that doesn’t work? Well, no one will think to look for you here. If your misery isn’t enough to power my moths… then maybe your death will be the final push I need."

Horrified, Marinette could only stare at him in disbelief. It really had gotten worse. How could he speak so casually of her death? He really was a villain. "You're crazy."

Gabriel's face gentled. "If it helps, I truly am sorry. I don't want you to die. I just have to get my wife back. You must understand that she's my priority. I regret that everything else must by necessity be risked for that goal."

"Even your son? Adrien would never forgive you for my death. You have to know that. I don't think Marie would either," Marinette argued desperately.

"What they don't know, they won't have to forgive. Your death is regrettable, but perhaps necessary. Nothing else has worked and so I must perhaps do abhorrent things. I’ve already become a monster in my quest. This is just one more step into the abyss."

Terror made Marinette nauseous. At least if she threw up, she could aim it at Gabriel and ruin his bespoke suit. Unfortunately, her stomach was empty and didn't have anything to bring up. She didn't want to him to see her cry, but she couldn't stop the tears from escaping.

"I won't actively hurt you, so take some comfort in that. If you die, it will merely be from neglect," he stated matter of factly.

"That’s a horrible way to die!" Marinette cried. "Nathalie, please don't let him do this." Twisting around to look at the man holding her, she repeated her plea, "Please, help me." The bodyguard merely looked bored. Nathalie looked uncomfortable, but wouldn't meet her eyes. Neither intervened.

Instead of making Marinette feel hopeless, it made her mad.

Gabriel gestured to an empty closet. "We'll keep you locked in there while I send for a large enough cage. Then we’ll put you out here for your pain to charge up my akumas. Take heart, Mademoiselle. If we're both lucky," he lingered over the word, brow quirked in amusement, "I'll defeat Ladybug and Chat Noir before you get too far gone and release you. Either way, this distasteful moment will become but a forgotten footnote in my history."

"My name's Marinette, not Mademoiselle!" she cried ferociously. "I'm not just some girl you can use and throw away. I love and am loved! I'm the daughter of Tom and Sabine and the best friend of Alya, Tikki, Kenza, and _Adrien_.” She shot him a glare. “Paris and its people are precious to me. They've taught me to understand sacrifice and joy. I won't be forgotten. I am Marinette. I am Ladybug!"

"Oh, please," Gabriel snorted, flicking his eyes at her empty earlobes. "Don't make me gag you inside your cage."

Suddenly her cell phone vibrated urgently against her wrist. Marinette jerked in surprise. The phone slipped out of her sling and bounced off the ground with a crack. No way to tell now if it had been the dying gasp of the battery or Kenza finally calling her back.

Quick as a whip, Gabriel snatched it up. The screen had a spider web of cracks and the pieces from the broken corner of the case flaked off in his hands. "Who did you tell of me, you foolish child?!" He pressed the buttons, but the phone stayed dark.

"My phone died before I could call anyone," Marinette said defiantly. "I stupidly came in here for help."

Scowling, Gabriel tossed the phone to Nathalie. "Dispose of this somewhere discrete."

She fumbled and dropped it to the floor. "I'm so sorry, Sir." Nathalie crouched down to pick it up with shaking fingers.

While everyone was distracted, Marinette dropped to the floor through the gorilla's lax grip. Rolling onto her back, she spin kicked his legs. He yelped and fell down. Using the momentum to regain her feet, Marinette ran to the wall and hit the control to open the window. Hands swiped at her, but she twisted away, jumping up onto the desk and then on top of the telescope boxes. Running their length, she took a flying leap and dived for the telescope opening in the center of the window. Half her body sailed through, then her stomach banged hard into the window. Her legs and arm scrabbled for purchase. Marinette tried to heave herself the rest of the way out, but her hips kept sliding back. Frantic, she wiggled, trying to find something to grab for leverage.

Long-fingered hands grabbed her ankles and wrenched her away from freedom. She slammed onto the hard floor with a cry. Luckily her good side took the brunt of the fall, but it still left her out of breath. Before she could collect herself, they dragged her into the storeroom and slammed the door. The lock clicked, leaving Marinette in darkness.


	17. The Lost Phone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I got stuck with a scene in this chapter, so I skipped ahead to write the final fight scene. That means that the next update will be very quick. Enjoy!

 

"That was awesome!" Ladybug gave Chat an exuberant high five, her ponytail bouncing like a five-year old, and then flipped up onto the railing overlooking the Seine river. Going up into a handstand, she twirled and then dismounted with a flourish. A huge grin stretched across her face.

Chat couldn't help but smile at her excitement. "I think we just set a new record for fastest akuma purification. We've finally got this partnership down, _baby_ bug."

"Chat!" she scowled with annoyance.

"Squirt?" he teased.

Folding her arms, Ladybug leaned back against the railing sulkily. "I’m not that much younger. You promised to stop calling me names if I proved myself, remember? I think today’s battle proves that I've earned your respect."

Smiling softly, he nudged her red foot with his black boot. "You have. Today, we were totally _paw-_ some."

Ladybug's face lightened. "We totally were."

"It's just that you're so small, little B," he added, lips twitching.

"Watch it, _old man_. You're the one getting long in the tooth and slow. I may be younger and shorter than you, but I'm actually one of the tallest girls in my grade," she poked his chest. "In fact, I'm at least half a head taller than the old--" wincing, she cut herself off, but it was too late. Chat's good mood darkened as he finished the phrase in his head, _than the old Ladybug_.

He still missed his Ladybug. He probably always would. Like a badly healed break, the pain and throbbing flared up regularly.

However, that wasn't his new partner's fault. Thankfully they had a completely different type of relationship. Sometimes, chatting with the new Ladybug felt a lot like hanging out with his friend Alya. This Ladybug also seemed to treat him with tolerant affection and amusement.

Stuffing his negative emotions back down behind his sternum with the rest of his private pain, he tucked his thumbs behind his belt and tried to assume a casual stance. "You're tall enough to get the job done. I suppose that's all that matters, at the end of the day."

"Thanks," Ladybug shifted awkwardly, then cleared her throat. "I've been meaning to ask, do you fence?"

Looking at her masked face silhouetted against the sun-painted river, a now familiar but still not quite c face, Chat felt a strange pang of deja vu. "Why, are you looking for a fencing partner?"

The wind blew her light brown hair across her face. A strand got stuck to her lips. The feeling of deja vu intensified. Wrinkling her nose, Ladybug matter of factly ran her red gloved hands over her face to dislodge it and tucked the hair behind her ears.

Seeing it, Chat experienced a feeling of dissonance. Hadn’t he once had a similar dream involving his Ladybug? They’d flirting while talking about fencing and he’d almost kissed her. It had been a good dream.

Sadness swelled up from his chest, pushing against the backs of his eyes. Gritting his teeth, Chat tried to shake off the similarity. He'd decided to stop punishing his new friend for not being the woman he pined for. Chat had to see the new Ladybug as her own person. He wouldn’t survive otherwise.

"Not a fencing partner, exactly," Ladybug explained, pulling him back to the present, "but I was thinking maybe we could try getting together to train sometimes. Like, we could practice moves to use on the super villains, like fencing one week, gymnastics the next, different strategies and plays. It could be fun and help us get more of the fights to go like today - quickly."

His old Ladybug had hated training. Whenever he'd suggest it, she'd groan theatrically and drag her feet. In the midst of a battle she was all business, but outside that she seemed to employ a learn-as-you-go strategy.

“Well?” Ladybug prompted nervously.

Once more, Chat dragged his focus to the present instead of lingering nostalgically in the past. "Sure, that sounds like a good idea. I've got some time tomorrow evening where I can sneak out. You wanna start then?"

Jumping away from the railing, Ladybug gave him a thumbs up. "Sounds good. You just have to promise not to cry when I kick your butt at fencing."

Chat rolled his eyes in her direction. "I'll make sure to bring some tissues for YOU. You'll need them to muffle your sobs when you lose to my _cat_ -tastic technique."

"Oh, now it's on. After tomorrow, they'll have to change your name from Chat Noir to _Cry More_." Ladybug smirked.

Before he could stop it, a chuckle escaped his lips. Pointing a clawed finger her way, he cleared his throat and forced his lips to curve back down. "Dream on. Message my baton when you decide on a time for tomorrow. Then when you lose to me you can put the fencing foil in _foil_ ed dreams."

Eyes sparkling with mirth, Ladybug stuck out her tongue. "I’ll make sure to bring you tissues. See you tomorrow, Chat. I'll text you on my yoyo when I know the details."

Suddenly her eyes got wide and she slapped a hand to her face. "Oh no, my phone! I haven't seen it since before lunch when I texted my brother. Don't tell me I lost it again. Our insurance won’t cover getting another one according to Charles, the assistant manager at the phone store. My mom's going to kill me."

Shaking his head, Chat waved. If he ever wanted to discover her secret identity, he just had to stake out a cell phone store with employees named Charles, Sarah, & Mark. It seemed like that girl lost her cell phone at least once a week. He wondered if her mom would make good on her threat this time of just replacing the phone with a roll of coins.

Lips quirking with amusement, he silently wished Ladybug good luck and bounced away on his baton.

* * *

 

The next morning, Kenza plopped down in home room with a scowl. She'd searched everywhere and still not found her phone. When she'd tried to check the GPS coordinates on her computer, it hadn't worked. The battery must be dead again.

"Ugh! Why does this always happen to me," she groaned, thunking her head down onto the desk in despair.

"Lost your phone again?" Marcel asked with amusement as he slid into place next to her at the table.

"Yes," she answered with disgruntlement.

"You should have taken my advice to glue it to one of those retractable badges you clip on a lanyard." He pulled Kenza's book out from under her cheek and opened it to the current chapter, then slid it back into place.

Kenza groaned again and rolled her face back and forth.

Pulling out his phone, he showed her the screen. "I'll just forward the usual SOS text to all of our friends, shall I?" He hit a few buttons. "There. Hopefully, we'll find it before the end of the day."

"Thanks," she sighed, sitting up and facing forward as the bell rang to start class.

A few hours later found Kenza kneeling down in front of her gym locker, trying to hold her breath as she rooted through old, sweat-encrusted sports bras in search of her phone. She'd searched all day with no luck. Her friends had helped look, but drawn the line at searching Kenza's gym locker. Unfortunately, she had to take care of that stinky duty all by herself.

"Lost your cell phone again?" Dawn asked as she dropped down onto the bench and unlaced her sneakers.

"Yes," Kenza growled. She'd reached the bottom of the locker and still not found it. _Who knew she even owned this many sports bras?_

"Sorry," Dawn commiserated. "It could be worse, though. Did you hear about that missing senior?"

"No, what happened?" Kenza sat back on her heels and tried to think of another place to search.

Dawn shimmied out of her track pants and into a pair of jeans and a new shirt. "I didn't catch her name, but the girl went out walking alone last night and never came home. Her friends are all frantic. They're convinced something bad happened to her. Supposedly, Chloe Bourgeois dared to suggest that she might have run away and done them all a favor in the process. Then the missing girl's best friend tackled Chloe and tried to stuff a whiteboard eraser down her throat."

Eyes wide, Kenza whistled softly. "Whoa, she must've been crazy. No one messes with Chloe Bourgeois and gets away with it, not with her father being the mayor."

"I know," Dawn grimaced. "Crazy stuff." She looked down at Kenza, then over at the empty locker. "Did you check the top shelf, yet? Didn't you lose it up there right before Christmas?"

Kenza stood up, going on tiptoes to sweep her hand across the upper shelf. "Yeah, but I wouldn't do that twice in a row -oh." Her fingers hit a familiar shape and Kenza pulled out her dead cell phone. "Whoops." 

Dawn laughed and shook her head.

"Thanks, Dawn," Kenza sighed. She'd have to charge the phone when she got home later. None of her friends had the cheapo model, so their cords didn’t fit.

When she got home later that day, Kenza plugged her phone in to charge and went about her day. The next couple of hours consisted of homework and chores. Finally getting her mom's permission to go practice in the park with a friend, she raced into her room to transform and message Chat with the time.

She'd been looking forward to their fencing match all day. Chat had no idea that she was not only on her school fencing team, but was this year’s Junior Champion. He was in for a rude awakening when she trounced him tonight, a loss she intended to lord over his head for weeks. This win would put a stop to his baby jokes once and for all. That, or she’d have to ramp up the ‘ _old man’_ teasing.

Usually it took a few minutes to answer a superhero call since you had to transform first. Because of that, it startled her when Chat answered immediately. _Why was he running across a rooftop?_ "I can't train tonight," he said brusquely. "I'm busy."

"Oh," Kenza said, not able to hide her disappointment and annoyance at his dismissal. "Alright. Is everything okay?" She asked, trying to be fair and ask for a reasonable explanation.

Before he could answer, someone began pounding on her door. "Where did you put the remote control when you were cleaning? I can't find it," her younger brother Abbas yelled as he rattled her locked doorknob impatiently.

"Just a second," she snapped.

Turning back to her phone, she quickly whispered, "I gotta go. Good luck with your stuff." Chat hung up without saying goodbye. Irritated, she transformed back to normal and gave Tikki a napkin full of cookies.

Unlocking her door, she yanked it open. "Did you even think to look on the table?"

"It's not there," Abbas growled back, stomping after her into the living room.

“Well, that’s where I left it,” she said, extremely annoyed to find the table empty. After a few minutes of searching, she finally found it inside her little sister’s toy box. "Leila," she shouted down the hall with frustration, "how many times have I told you that the remote isn't a toy!"

"No! My magic wand!" Leila cried, running into the living room with fists clenched and tears pooling in her big brown eyes. “Mine!” she howled. Tossing the remote to Abbas, Kenza rolled her eyes and left him to deal with Leila's tantrum. Stomping back to her room, she slammed the door behind her.

"Don't slam your door!" her mother yelled from the study.

"Sorry!" Kenza called back crossly, not wanting the consequences of ignoring her mother.

Flopping down onto her desk chair, she logged onto her ancient desktop computer and decided to get an early start on her final report about Edger Allen Poe. Focusing on Poe’s writing of “The Raven” or marriage to his 13-year-old cousin felt too obvious. She needed something special. If the teacher liked her essay, it might boost Kenza’s grade high enough to make her mom forgive the inevitable future loss of her currently charging cell phone. Kenza knocked on the wood of her desk for luck and opened up her notebook.

Pausing, she decided that she needed all the luck she could get. Going to the door, she sprinted to the kitchen to avoid her siblings and grabbed two spoons. After a quick glance around, she wrenched open the freezer and filled both spoons with cookie dough ice cream. She scraped one into her mouth and tossed the dirty spoon in the sink with a clatter. Then she ran back to her room and gave the other spoon to Tikki.

With her happy little coos as background music, Kenza returned to her essay. According to their teacher, no one knew exactly how Poe had died. While randomly googling quotes about him, she’d stumbled upon two provocative lines from a letter he’d written about his wife. During her illness, Poe called himself, “insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity,” but that his wife’s death was a “permanent cure.” _Had Poe been cured of his alcoholism and nerves, or had her death actually “cured” him of his sanity and eventually driven him to suicide?_ It promised to be interesting to write about, if nothing else.

While her ancient computer slowly opened the browser window, she grabbed her finally charged cell phone and switched the power back on. Returning to her computer, she pulled up a webpage. The stupid little circle spun in the middle of the screen as it slowly loaded. It drove her crazy.

Old electronics and slow internet speeds made using the computer in her bedroom an act of desperation. Add in the spotty data coverage on her phone, and accessing the internet at home became an exercise in extreme patience worthy of a Zen master. Her mom liked to say it built character, but Kenza knew it was really just because her parents were too cheap to spend the extra money.

Just when the page finally finished loading, her phone began to vibrate and clatter across the desk with a swarm of missed notifications. Kenza wasn't that concerned. Marcel’s snapchats from last night could wait a few more minutes.

Picking up the phone to cancel the noise, she saw the entire screen full of missed texts and phone calls from the day before. They all came from a single person: Marinette. Goosebumps rose on Kenza’s skin. She felt herself go pale. Immediately she tried calling Marinette back. It didn’t ring, just went straight to voicemail. “It’s Kenza. Call me,” she urged anxiously.

Praying that she was overreacting, Kenza opened her messaging app. It took precious seconds for the first photo from Marinette to load. It showed an overgrown observatory with a decorative round window patterned like a flower. The picture meant nothing to Kenza.

She scrolled down to read the messages:

_If I don’t answer my phone, I’ll upload everything to my cloud. Password Tikki1sGr8._

_Not Hawk Moth after all. Sry._

Wait, what did that flowered window have to do with Hawk Moth? What was Marinette doing?!

Kenza’s heart jumped into her throat at the next text and she stopped breathing:

_About to get caught. Ack!_

_Gabriel Agreste = Hawk Moth!!!_

Her stupid phone froze as it loaded anther picture, not allowing her to scroll down until done. Finally it finished, revealing a tall, thin man surrounded by white butterflies. He looked very frustrated, as if in the midst of yelling at someone. It could be Gabriel Agreste, but this was crazy. Panic twisted through Kenza’s gut. She felt like vomiting. _Gabriel the fashion juggernaut was Hawk Moth? Really?_

She scrolled past the picture to read:

_LB n Chat have to stop him. I'm trapped. Plz come quick!_

Biting a fingernail to the quick, Kenza anxiously waited for the next photo to load: Gabriel and a sad-looking lavender kwami with wings, the source of Hawk Moth’s powers, she assumed.

Guilt crushed her chest, making it hard to breathe. "Tikki, I need you!" Kenza croaked, trying to call Marinette again despite the way air refused to enter her lungs. The call once more went to voicemail. "Marinette, this is Kenza. I just got your texts. Are you okay? Call me back right now! You better be okay. Call me. Please…." Hanging up, she ran her hands roughly through her hair. Tikki looked through the messages and went pale and grim.

Trying not to cry, Kenza gritted her teeth and started playing the voicemails on speakerphone. In the first, Marinette sounded excited about possibly finding Hawk Moth’s lair and determined to protect her friend Adrien from getting hurt. In the second, she sounded exhausted, stuck on a roof and begging for rescue. Each second of hearing Marinette’s recorded voice tore at Kenza’s heart. Pressing one arm across her chest and a hand over her eyes, she couldn’t help but shamefully curl forward towards the keyboard. The third and last message only had a few seconds of silence. Then it hung up.

Kenza dropped her head to the desk and began sobbing. _What had she done? And what had happened to Marinette?_ _She’d counted on Kenza and Kenza had let her down. She really was just a stupid kid._

“There’s no time for that,” Tikki said sympathetically but firmly. Her red face had gone pink with worry. "Crying won’t fix this. We need more information. Go to the files in her cloud drive."

Trying not to hyperventilate, Kenza sat up. Her fingers blurred across the keyboard as she logged herself out of her browser and typed in Marinette's username and password. Nevertheless, it took an excruciatingly long time for her ancient computer to switch over, access, and download the most recent files from the cloud drive. Finally it finished.

The first picture she opened was useless: Marinette looking up at her gorgeous model friend Adrien and laughing while he teasingly swirled her short hair into horns. Kenza went to impatiently close it when she remembered that Adrien's last name was Agreste.

_Oh my goodness, Adrien was Hawk Moth's son! Wait, did he know about his father’s evil ways or not?_ _He could be useful in getting Marinette back, but not if he was more loyal to his family than to his friends. What if he figured out that Marinette had been Ladybug and gave her up to his dad? Could she risk it?_

The next photo download showed the overgrown observatory again, then a larger picture of Gabriel’s shadowy, lean figure surrounded by white butterflies. Her enemy had stark features and unsettling, pale gray eyes.  Kenza's stomach clenched at finally seeing Hawk Moth’s face so clearly.

When Tikki saw the sad pink kwami in the photo, she made a pained sound. "I know him. Instead of a partner, Nooroo’s been made into a slave. Hawk Moth has much to answer for. Too many have been hurt by his quest for power."

Curling close to Tikki, Kenza pressed play on the first video file and braced herself for something awful. Fortunately, it only showed a distant Gabriel walking by and the shadowed face of Marinette as she nervously whispered that she was going to get closer to investigate. _Stupid, brave Marinette._

Then again, maybe things had turned out okay last night after all. _Maybe?_

The next audio recording smashed that hope to the floor. In it a desperate-sounding Marinette whispered barely audible words of love and farewell, requesting that Chat Noir break the news of her death to her parents and reminding Kenza not to attack blindly without making a plan.

As the reality of Marinette's awful situation beat down upon her, Kenza folded herself up into a ball on her chair, hugging her knees tightly to her chest as she hit play on the final audio file. It was corrupted and mostly filled with static. Only a few phrases came through. However, she could tell that Marinette had gotten captured.

Suddenly Marinette’s voice cried out of the static:

"That’s a horrible way to die! Please don't let him do this. Please, help me!"

Kenza desperately yearned to answer that plea, but it was hours too late.

Static covered whatever reply her captors made. Kenza began rocking back and forth in distress. Then Gabriel’s garbled voice cut through.

“…put you out… lucky… moment will… history….”

None of it made sense.

Finally Marinette’s voice rang out ferociously,

“I love and am loved… I am Marinette. I am—”

The recording cut off.

Muffling her bawling with one fist, Kenza desperately scrolled through the computer looking for more files, but that was it. There were no more.

Turning as if it hurt to move, Tikki wiped the tears off her pale cheeks and met Kenza's eyes. "We have to defeat Hawk Moth and save Marinette. That means that she’s right. No matter how upset we are, we have to have a plan first before we confront him. We can't just rush over there."

A despairing sound escaped Kenza's lips.

Lips flat, red returned to Tikki's face. "You can do this, Kenza. I know you can and Marinette knows you can. Don't give in to despair. Believe in yourself."

“But I missed the message! She asked for help and I missed it because I’m an idiot who lost her phone!” Kenza wailed. "I didn't even realize she was the missing girl everyone at school was talking about."

Tikki simply met her eyes, no anger or blame on her features, just a steady wisdom. “You lost your phone on accident. Bad things happened. Now you have the chance to fix it. Doesn’t your mother always tell you, ‘ _Never say I regret, always say I learned?_ ’ Learn from this and move on. Marinette is strong and good and lucky. She'll do her best to survive just like we'll do our best to rescue her. She sacrificed herself to get us the identity and location of Hawk Moth. The bests of two Ladybugs are not something to take lightly. It's time for you to rise to this challenge, Kenza. It’s not a question of if you can, but if you will. Will you do it, Kenza?”

Blowing out her breath, Kenza wiped the tears from her cheeks. She took a moment to wrestle with her emotions. Kenza felt afraid. However, she couldn’t let fear stop her. Turning to Tikki, she forced herself to nod. “Yes.”

Tikki gave her a faint smile of approval. “Good. Now, what should we do first?”

Firming her lips, Kenza pulled her notebook closer and flipped to a clean page. "Right, we have to be organized. We know that Hawk Moth is Gabriel Agreste and we have a picture of the observatory where he keeps his butterflies. Unfortunately, we don't know where that observatory is. Maybe Chat knows. If not, we can try the son, Adrien, though I'm not sure if he'd be more loyal to Marinette than to his father."

"I can't say for sure," Tikki said cautiously, "but from what I've seen, Adrien is a very good person. I also think he cares a lot for Marinette. I think he'd help us no matter what the personal cost. However, just in case he sides with his father, it would be prudent to ask him as Kenza instead of as Ladybug."

"Right," Kenza jotted a few more thoughts down, then swung to her computer. "I'm going to send these files to my phone. I'll also attach them to an email for Alya Cesare, head of the Ladyblog and best friends with Marinette, with instructions to inform the police and set it to delay delivery until tomorrow. That will serve as a last resort in case we get captured tonight. I should gather up supplies for the search like extra cookies for you and that stinky cheese for Chat, maybe granola bars, water, and a first aid kit." She connected her cell phone to the computer and started transferring over the files.

"Good idea," Tikki praised.

Kenza scrubbed her face with her hands. "Chat Noir is going to go supernova when I tell him about Marinette, but I can't hide who she was. It could come out during the battle and distract him when we can least afford it. Besides, the least I can do is pass on Marinette's farewell message."

Her face started to crumple, but then Kenza drew in a noisy breath and jumped to her feet. "I'll go make up an excuse for my parents about skipping dinner and being out late, maybe tell them my friend didn’t cancel after all. As soon as the files finish transferring, we'll contact Chat and leave."

* * *

 

Dropping soundlessly to the ground in front of the statue of Ladybug and Chat Noir, Chat ignored Ladybug's startled jump.

If it had been anyone else but his partner calling, he wouldn't have come. He needed to be out there searching for Marinette. His chest went tight every time he thought about her being hurt or even worse. Chat had already lost his first Ladybug. He didn't think he'd survive losing Marinette too. He had to find her.

However, instead of searching out in the City, he had come at Ladybug's summons. He wanted to believe she had a good reason for insisting he come. Unfortunately, part of him felt cynical that her youth and inexperience had led to her wasting his time.

"Well? What's so urgent?" he snapped. "This better not be a joke. My friend's in trouble and I need to help her."

Then he got a good look at Ladybug's face and felt his stomach drop. Eyes swollen and lips tight, she looked both upset and resolute, an expression he'd never seen on her before. Whatever it was, she wasn't here to waste his time.

"What's wrong," he asked, much more gently and patiently.

Ladybug met his eyes forthrightly. "Hey, old man. I’m sorry to say that this is no joke. My friend's in trouble too and it has to do with Hawk Moth. Let's go up to that rooftop over there where it’s private. I have something you need to listen to."

Nervously following her up onto the roof, he looked at her expectantly until she started to speak. "I have to tell you several very important things, but before I start, I need you to promise not to leave until I finish."

"Alright," Chat said hesitantly, not liking the sound of that.

"And you have to talk things over with me before doing anything," she added insistently.

Suspicious, he asked, "Just what are you expecting me to do? If Hawk Moth has your friend, of course I'll help you rescue them."

Face going mulish, she shook her head. "Promise first."

Looking away, he rubbed his mouth. This was going to be bad. He just knew it. _Then again, what choice did he have?_ The sooner he promised, the sooner he would be able to deal with the problem and go back to finding Marinette.

"Fine, I promise. Now tell me." Chat raised a commanding eyebrow and folded his arms.

"Maybe you should sit down," she suggested anxiously.

"Ladybug!" he growled impatiently.

Chest rising and falling with a deep breath, she started. "You may remember me saying that I lost my phone yesterday. I found it today, but didn't get a change to listen to my messages until an hour ago." She blinked and looked away. "I missed several urgent messages. Here’s the first important thing: my friend has not only found Hawk Moth's lair, she’s also discovered his secret identity.”

Shocked, Chat just blinked at her.

“He's actually someone famous, believe it or not," Ladybug rambled as she picked nervously at the fabric on her wrist.

"Really? That's crazy, but great. This is great." Chat said, trying to shake off his surprise and shift gears. _Could they finally defeat Hawk Moth once and for all?_ It would make all of the sacrifices worth it. "Where? And who?"

Ladybug flinched. "Who's my friend?"

"No, who's Hawk Moth." Chat looked at her strangely. "Why, who is your friend?"

Hunching forward, Ladybug started wringing her hands. "Okay, that's the second important thing. Remember, you promised to hear me out."

Hands fisting, Chat braced himself. "Then say it." _Why was she so nervous?_

"My friend's name is," she paused to gulp in a quick breath, then blurted, "she's the old Ladybug."

Chat's world tipped sideways. "What?" he breathed.

She winced. "I found her a couple of months ago. She swore me to secrecy, wanting to find her footing as a normal person before meeting up with you again. I'm sorry."

"What?" Chat repeated. His mind swam with a mix of excitement and happiness, hurt and anger. Then everything solidified into a single thought. "I want to see her."

"Yeah," she breathed guiltily. "You see, the problem is that she insisted on doing patrols looking for Hawk Moth even though she's still injured and doesn't have a Miraculous anymore."

_Still injured_ , he thought anxiously. _Oh, my Lady, what happened to you? Why didn't you come to me?_

Ladybug continued her explanation. "I made her promise to be careful, but I didn't think she'd actually find him or get caught. You’ve been looking for three years. What are the odds?"

Everything screeched to a halt. "Wait, Hawk Moth caught her?" Chat growled, stepping forward aggressively.

"Yes," she said miserably, "that's the third important thing. She sent me some pictures and sound files from inside the observatory. Marinette told him she got lost and wandered in and he seemed to buy it since they know each other. She's friends with his son, Adrien. At least he doesn’t know she used to be Ladybug."

At her words, the strength in his legs abruptly gave out. Chat dropped to his knees, barely noticing the pain as an appalling suspicion sparked along the edges of his mind. _How did Ladybug know those names?_ He forced himself to speak with what felt like ice shards slicing the inside of his throat. "What are you talking about?"

Kneeling down, she spoke heavily. "The former Ladybug's real name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Hawk Moth is really Gabriel Agreste, head of the fashion company Gabriel and father of Adrien, the famous model. Last night, Gabriel captured Marinette."

The words stuck him like the clanging of a bell, threatening to vibrate his flesh completely off his bones. _They didn't make sense. None of this did. It couldn't be true._

Pulling out a cell phone, Ladybug showed him the screen. “Here’re the pictures she sent me.” The screen showed a picture of Hawk Moth, then his father with white butterflies in the background, and finally a photo of his dad next to a light purple kwami. The sender’s name at the top was Marinette. The text below the final picture said:

_LB n Chat have to stop him. I'm trapped. Plz come quick!_

Chat swayed. Cold sweat trickled down his neck. He felt nauseas and weak.

"You should probably hear this too," Ladybug said nervously, navigating to an audio file. She hit play. Marinette's voice, _Ladybug's_ voice, began speaking:

"I don't know if I'm going to get out of this, but it was an honor being your friend. Tell my family and friends I loved them and went out fighting. Hug Tikki for me and tell her I was true to the spots. Say sorry to Adrien. If he needs new parents, he should adopt mine. Adrien’s amazing, one of the best people I know and this doesn’t change that or how much I lo—,” Marinette stopped and cleared her throat, “well, anyways, look out for him, him and Chat both, if you could? Also, tell Chat that-- that I’m sorry. I did love him, but use puns so he knows I'm telling the truth. Please? He was a _purr_ fect _cat_ -ch and I wish I’d have opened my shell years ago.” Her next breath sounded like a sob. “I’m so sorry I’ll never meet him for macarons. Would you ask him to tell my parents what happened to me? I’d like it to come from him."

Voice rough with emotion, Marinette stopped and harshly swallowed. "Ladybug, make sure you have a plan, don’t just rush over here and don't let Chat do it either. Remember that Hawk Moth's smart and very dangerous. I'm almost out of battery, so good luck and… goodbye."

The recording ended. His partner looked away and sniffled.

_It was too much._ His father had been Hawk Moth the entire time. His father had caused all of this suffering and pain. Not only that, but finding out that his best friend Marinette had been Ladybug, hearing her voice saying those things to him, to _both_ sides of him, it was all just too much.

Lurching to his feet, he staggered away behind the nearest chimney and threw up, on and on, until nothing was left. When the convulsions stopped, he realized that no amount of vomiting would serve to purge the sick feelings crawling through his body. Claws digging into the roof tiles, he tried to find some stability in the maelstrom of emotions bombarding him from every side.

Throwing back his head, he stared at the sun hanging heavy and low in the sky. Tears streamed from his eyes. Finally it forced him to blink and look away. He felt drunk on misery. Shaking his head unsteadily, he sat back, swallowed hard, and wiped his mouth with the back of his glove.

His father was Hawk Moth: his greatest enemy.

Marinette was Ladybug: the woman he loved most in this world.

He was the son of a villain and best friend to a Superhero. Everything suddenly made so much more sense. He'd been blind. _Would either of them have ever said something?_

This new knowledge made him feel so small. It made him question everything. He felt like he'd been stabbed through the heart and was bleeding out.

A traitorous part deep down inside even wondered if it might have been better to remain in ignorance. In finding Marinette, he'd lost his father. The man he'd once revered no longer existed. Maybe he never had.

Folding his arms around himself, Chat squeezed tightly and fought to stay upright. With the barest thread of control, he kept his agonized scream silent. Tears escaped his tightly closed eyes and his breath turned ragged.

He didn't have time for a mental breakdown.

Calling on months of practice, he bared his teeth defiantly and swept up his pain into a jagged bundle. He stuffed it down deep where it would take time to bubble up again. The last few months had taught him that he didn't function well when emotion ruled his thoughts. The only solution he'd found was to be less emotional. It wouldn’t work forever, but for now it was all he had.

Tracing the skyline of Paris, he focused on breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. He used the impersonal black leather gloves to wipe away the evidence of his mental upheaval and packed away Adrien. He could only be Chat Noir right now. They had a villain to defeat and a lady to save, a Lady who needed him - sweet, strong, spunky Marinette needed him. Nothing else mattered.

When he felt as controlled as he was going to get, Chat returned to Ladybug's side. "Sorry about that," he said shortly, dropping down to sit next to her.

"No, that's fine," she answered softly, handing him a water bottle. "Did you- did you recognize the names?"

"Yes." Before she could ask any follow-up questions, he prodded. "So what are your ideas for a plan?" He took a gulp of the water and turned his mind to strategy.

After several loud and emotional arguments, they finally settled on a plan of attack.

"OK, so no Cataclysms or Lucky Charms until we make sure Marinette is safe," Ladybug ticked off on her fingers as she summarized. "You free Marinette while I engage Hawk Moth. Then we team up to take away Hawk Moth's Miraculous and defeat him once and for all."

Chat stood up. "Sounds good. Let's go."

"Err, I forgot about that," Ladybug cringed. "I don't actually know where Gabriel’s observatory is. Marinette didn't say. She just sent the picture. We don’t have a lot of time, but maybe we could try checking the Agreste estate to see if it's behind their fence or question the son, Adrien."

Barely keeping his face impassive, Chat said, "I have a better idea. I've seen a picture of that window before. I'll call someone who might know. Stay here."

"Who?" Ladybug called as he jumped away.

Chat just waved his hand impatiently and disappeared into a shadowed alcove down the street. "Claws in," he said.

Once more in street clothes, Adrien pulled out his cell phone. He brought up the contact info for Professor Adrien Ogbore, the man who'd taken a photo of Adrien's mother in front of a round observatory window in a building built by Gabriel Agreste, the same round window seen in Marinette's photo. His finger hovered over the call button, but something kept him from pressing it.

“What are you waiting for?” Plagg asked.

"I feel like I should call my father,” he confessed wretchedly, exiting out to the home screen. He brought up his father’s face, but couldn’t bring himself to press it either.

"I have some platitudes for you, but first, give me cheese," Plagg demanded.

Broken from his mental paralysis, Adrien frowned but passed over the camembert. Shaking his head sharply, he flicked the screen to scroll back down to the Professor's name.

Plagg stuffed his mouth with a piece of cheese almost as big as his head and swallowed, all in the space of about three seconds. "Alright, I'm ready. First, your life sucks. Sorry about that, man. Your parents both struggled with the crazies, but as far as I can tell, at least you seem sane so far. You might want to get some therapy, though. You totally deserve to complain to someone who knows how to deal with that stuff in a sensitive fashion."

"Well, that leaves you out," Adrien muttered.

"I am sorry, but hey, at least you don't have to worry about a love triangle square mess thingy anymore. The two guys Marinette likes are both you and you won't have to give up your love for old Ladybug to be with Marinette. They're the same person too. Ta da!" Plagg shook his hands like pompoms.

"Unless my supervillain dad k-kills her," Adrien stuttered painfully.

Face becoming serious, Plagg shook his head. "After seeing the things that girl has done, I have too much respect to think she'd die so easily. Don't mourn her or count her out yet. Trust in her a little more. You need to focus on finding her and defeating Hawk Moth. He's not your father in that mask. He's your enemy, Chat Noir. Remember that."

Feeling shaky, Adrien nodded his head. "I'll try."

Plagg slapped his back encouragingly, then stole another cheese triangle out of the still open pocket. "Good. Worse come to worse and he defeats us and Ladybug, we pull out your identity in a bid to knock him off guard and wrest victory from defeat."

Lips thin, Adrien shook his head. "If we did that, the spell protecting our identities would render Ladybug powerless."

"Well, I did say final resort. Hopefully it won't come to that. This is going to be hard, but I believe in you, Adrien. You’re a good person. Hold fast to that and things will work out." Plagg nodded encouragingly and then bit off a chunk of cheese.

"When did you become an optimist? I'm discovering that everyone is different today," Adrien said with forced levity.

Tapping the screen decisively, he lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello, Professor. This is Adrien. I'm sorry to bother you, but I have a strange request."

"What can I do for you, Adrien?" Professor Ogbore asked courteously.

"I need to know the location of my mother's observatory, the one where you took that photo. It's an emergency."

"I thought you knew, it's right behind your house."

Confused, Adrien asked, "What are you talking about? There's nothing behind my house but empty grass and a fence. The other side of the fence is nothing but an abandoned estate full of weeds."

"I don't know what's there now, but when I went there years ago to take the photo, it shared a fence with your backyard. Gabriel had bought the land behind his and razed the former house to build Marie's observatory. At the time, he even got them to rename the street leading up to the gate, something with star in the name. I wouldn't be surprised if he tore it down when your mother disappeared, but if he didn't, look there."

"Alright, well, thanks. I'll check it out." The location was just one more thing on the pile weighting him down and making him feel unbalanced. _Had he slept in his bed last night just a few hundred meters away from where Marinette lay imprisoned?_ What a sickening thought. Then again, he lived with the man who'd terrorized Paris for the last three years. He’d have to get used to feeling dirty.

"Adrien? Is everything alright?" Professor Ogbore asked.

"Marinette's missing. I think she might have gone to the observatory," he explained miserably.

"I'm so sorry to hear that. Do you need help looking for her? This grading can wait. I could show you the observatory in person," he offered, the sound of his chair creaking through the phone.

Adrien shook his head, even though the Professor couldn't see it. "No, I can check it out by myself. Thanks, though. I appreciate your help."

"Well, let me know if I can do anything. I really liked Marinette. I hope she's found soon."

"Thank you." Adrien said, then hung up the phone and tucked it back in his pocket.

"Ready, Plagg?"

"Let's go get your Lady and destroy some crap," Plagg said cockily.

"Claws out." Chat Noir took a deep breath and returned to where Ladybug waited.

She shifted back and forth on her feet with her arms crossed tightly. Looking up, she searched his face hopefully. "Did you get it?"

"It's on the land directly behind the Agreste estate," Chat said.

A huge sigh escaped her mouth. "Thank goodness your friend remembered, though my plan would have worked too. Anyways, do we need to look the address up? Or have you been to the Agreste estate before?"

A humorless smile stretched across his face. _If she only knew._ "Follow me. I know the way."

"Alright, but remember to stick to the plan," she cautioned, following as he jumped from rooftop to light pole in a direct line to his house.


	18. The Final Fight

 

Upon reaching the Agreste estate, Chat dropped down onto the sidewalk. He couldn't think of this place as home right now. Chat Noir didn't have a home; he only had duty. "There's a Shooting Star Lane that goes along the far side of the estate. We can try following that to find the observatory," he told Ladybug. The two of them jogged down the cobblestone street looking for a gate.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a small smear of dark red near the bottom of the fence. Red always caught his eye because of Ladybug. Chat flared his nostrils, using his enhanced senses to pick up the faint but familiar scent of raspberry macarons, linen, and roses.

"She was here." Crouching down, he delicately touched the board next to the dried blood. The board moved. Surprised, he swung it inward, revealing a gap in the fence.

Ladybug looked over his shoulder. "She could have squeezed through there. Maybe this is it."

Stepping back, Ladybug jumped to the top of the fence and flipped over. Chat followed. They landed behind a hedge in a field of weeds. He could distantly see the roof of his house over the fence to the right. On the left loomed the observatory.

Of course his Lady had gone left, despite the dangers of investigating by herself. Of course she had. Sometimes, it felt like she never listened until it was too late.

_He prayed that they wouldn't be too late._

"She went in through the roof, so let's start there," Ladybug suggested.

Chat looked up at the vine-choked walls and blinked. "How did she get up to the roof with only one working arm?"

Glancing over, Ladybug smiled despite her shadowed eyes. "It's Marinette. How does she do anything? Some strange combination of impulsiveness, stubbornness, and optimism." Turning away, she bounced from tree to tree until she had enough force to jump up onto the observatory roof.

Fondly exasperated, he shook his head and followed. Up on the roof, Chat reminded himself for the thousandth time to stay professional, no matter who or what he saw inside the observatory. "They probably locked the door after she broke in." He grabbed the handle and lifted it up easily, though the hinges squealed. "Or not."

"Hopefully no one heard that," Ladybug winced, ducking beneath his arm to go inside. "Huh, there's a bit of vine jammed in the locking mechanism. I bet Marinette did that."

"When not following her impulses, she is a great strategist." Chat let the door close as quietly as he could and then followed Ladybug down the hall. The building was mostly dark. They went around a corner and saw the opposite wall dominated by the round window from the photo.

Ladybug quickened her pace, but Chat couldn't help but lag behind. Despite all of the evidence, part of him still desperately wished for this all to be a mistake. His father and Marinette being involved in this seemed too fantastical.

Then he looked up and saw Nathalie and his father. He thought he'd braced himself, but his heart still dropped. The two walked down a staircase to the shadowed lower level. Walking over to the wall, his father flicked a switch, causing the window cover to swirl open.

Sunlight streamed in, bouncing off dust motes and illuminating the mostly empty lower level. Several large, unopened crates took up one wall. Farther down stood a desk sporting a lamp and an old-fashioned, leather-bound book. A glass-fronted bookcase rested behind it. The books inside looked old, perhaps even older than Paris itself. In the middle of the room sat a strange mound of white butterflies with their wings painted orange and gold by the evening sun. The room held nothing else.

At his father's approach, the butterflies scattered to the corners of the room, uncovering a steel cage with a person hunched inside.  _No, not just any person – it was Marinette._  She had her face turned away, as if the light hurt her eyes. The sling holding her injured shoulder immobile had become dirty and stained. Several charcoal gray moths clung stubbornly to her bowed shoulders and the tangled cap of her black hair.

Seeing his father and Nathalie standing over the imprisoned Marinette, Adrien could no longer doubt. Emotions buzzed and stung through his chest like a kicked over beehive. His lips and the tips of his fingers went momentarily numb.  _Could someone have a fatal allergy to a hard truth?_  It certainly felt like it.

Shaking herself to dislodge the sooty butterflies, Marinette wearily rubbed at her face. Chat watched her chest expand and contract with a deep breath. Then she tossed her hair back and looked up regally into the eyes of her enemy. Anxiety, hunger, and pain cast a pall over her face, but the fire in her blue eyes remained undimmed.

Meeting those defiant eyes unemotionally, Gabriel Agreste crossed his arms behind his back. "I'm going to start the first test now. I expected many more corrupted butterflies after a full day's exposure to your pain and fear, but obviously you've managed to keep your spirits up better than expected. Care to tell me how?"

Pain continued to buzz through Chat's chest. It weighed down his lungs and made breathing difficult. Pressing a shaking hand to his breastbone, he forced himself to stumble along at Ladybug's heels.  _That wasn't his father down there threatening the love of his life_ , he reminded himself.  _It was just his enemy Hawk Moth and a citizen who needed saving._

In answer to the question, Marinette bared her teeth in a facsimile of a smile and sang hoarsely, "Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are."

His father turned away dismissively. "Children's songs. How quaint."

Not missing a beat, Marinette replied, "We are in an observatory. It seemed appropriate to sing of the stars. I bet your wife loved them. She must have sung 'Twinkle Twinkle' to Adrien a thousand times as a kid, am I right?"

 _She was,_  Chat thought.

"You are but a tool. Do not speak of my wife and son so familiarly," Gabriel snapped, losing his cool as he cut his hand through the air.

Marinette raised an eyebrow in return. "But I am familiar. I'm best friends with your son, Adrien, remember? I've been in your home. I've also seen Marie in pictures and heard about her life from people who loved her. I've even visited her grave. Have you? Or did you delegate that task to Nathalie too?"

"Stop talking," Gabriel gritted out. "I will not feel guilt over what I must do to get my wife back." He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Chat felt confused.  _What did any of this have to do with his mom?_

"I think you do feel guilty," Marinette said gently in the face of Gabriel's anger, bringing his attention firmly back to her plight. Weariness bowed her shoulders, but did nothing to dim the light in her eyes. "It's normal to miss her and want her back."

Somehow she could still feel compassion, even abused as she'd been. She humbled him. Chat Noir could barely comprehend it. At that moment, he lost all doubts that the former Ladybug and Marinette were the same woman. They had the same loving heart.

"Mr. Agreste, you're destroying your life and the lives of others in the process. It's making you miserable. What little I learned about Marie told me that nothing was more important to her than the happiness of the people she loved. Didn't she used to say that good things will either happen or something better will come along? If you step out from this darkness and look around, I bet you could find those better things. Your son Adrien, for one. Don't you want to be happy again? If you try, I bet you and Adrien could find some of that happiness together."

Tears escaped Chat's eyes and trickled over his lips. They tasted salty. Luckily the darkness hid his weakness. Hurting and hoping as Adrien Agreste would do him no good here. Chat had to shake off the buzz of his emotions and focus on the fight to come.

After a heavy moment of silence, his father lifted a shaking hand and rubbed at his face. "Ah Mademoiselle, it's too late for that. I've already proved that I can't do this on my own. No matter how I try, all I seem to do is wallow in pain and unintentionally hurt my son. I haven't created anything in over a year. My night sky is nothing but empty darkness." Lowering his hand, he turned his face away. "This is the way it has to be. I'm sorry."

Clearing his throat, Gabriel turned back, face once more a mask. "This will go much more quickly if you just let yourself despair so the butterflies can feed freely. That gives you the only chance you have of escaping this alive."

"Then I guess there's only one thing to do." Marinette's chapped lower lip trembled for a moment before she regained control of herself.

"What's that?" he asked with cool satisfaction.

"Picture a night sky full of bright stars. My friend's little sister taught me a new song. If Marie is looking down from heaven, I'm sure she'll like it too." Licking her dry lips, Marinette began singing faintly. "I am like a star shining brightly, shining for the whole world to see. I can do and say, happy things each day, for I know Heavenly Father loves me."

Spinning on his heel, Gabriel strode away with frustration. "Nathalie, it's time to start. Keep track of the news to see how Ladybug and Chat Noir respond to my new akuma." Snatching up a pink kwami off his desk, Gabriel touched the Miraculous brooch on his jacket. "Wings out," he snapped, transforming into the supervillain Hawk Moth.

Chat heaved a sigh of relief. It would be easier to fight the mask than the man who'd raised him. He could even pretend to hate Hawk Moth now, especially when Marinette's singing broke off abruptly into a harsh coughing fit. She probably hadn't eaten or drank anything since yesterday. Chat let the protective and vengeful feelings strengthen his limbs, overshadowing the squirming nausea at seeing his father willingly turn into his worst enemy.

Leaning close enough to whisper in his ear, Ladybug said, "My sister taught her that song. I can't take this anymore. Let's go before we get too emotional to think clearly."

 _Too late_ , Chat thought blackly.

Slapping Ladybug's back bracingly, he stepped up to her side. They shared a nod and then jumped down into the pool of sunlight in the center of the floor. Everyone jerked around at their unexpected entrance.

"It's over, Hawk Moth," Ladybug announced as they stalked forward confidently.

"Chat! Ladybug!" Marinette cried with delight, pressing up against the bars of her cage.

Recovering quickly from the shock, Hawk Moth snatched a gray butterfly out of the air. "Nathalie, you're fired unless you get me those Miraculouses."

"What?" Nathalie gasped, going white, then green. "But sir!" At his uncompromising look, she gulped and adjusted her glasses, then nodded faintly.

The gray butterfly in Hawk Moth's hand began turning the black of an oil slick, with iridescent purple glossing its wings. Smiling coolly, he released the butterfly and retreated behind his desk. At his sharp gesture, a cocoon of white butterflies flew up into the air, surrounding him in a living shield.

The unusual black butterfly flew over and landed on Nathalie's glasses. It dissolved into the frames, turning them into large brass goggles that magnified her eyes. Her severe pantsuit and turtleneck morphed into a steampunk hat and corseted dress with a bandoleer and belt full of strange bottles and sharp-looking gears.

A smirk grew on the evilized Nathalie's face as she examined Ladybug and Chat Noir. The strange goggles made her eyes look large and grotesquely distorted. She cracked her neck from side to side, sending the feather on her hat whipping through the air. "You two weren't on the schedule. I hate it when people ignore the schedule. It's time someone taught you some manners and took those Miraculouses for someone more deserving."

Flicking his baton out into a staff, Chat stepped forward to fight. Ladybug looked between the wall of butterflies and the cage and then ran for Marinette. It made sense, but still made him feel a tinge of annoyance. He'd wanted to be the one rescuing Marinette. Then again, they'd planned for two obstacles, not three. Marinette's safety was more important than his pride or any plan. Looking Nathalie over once more, he charged.

Completely unconcerned, Nathalie threw a handful of sharp metal gears at Chat's face. They blurred through the air like throwing stars. He barely ducked. They hit the cement floor and stuck with a twang.

Seconds later, Chat took a glancing kick to the face from her high-heeled, lace-up boots. He blocked the follow-up punch, but Steampunk Nathalie spun around and nailed him hard in the stomach with her elbow. Coughing, he frantically brought up his baton as a shield. He stumbled back and tried to shake off the blows.

"Disappointing. I expected more from  _The_  Chat Noir," she drawled.

Slipping a glass bottle off her belt, Nathalie threw it. The bottle shattered against his whirling baton. Blue goo splattered through the air and covered one arm and his weapon. Within seconds, it hardened into a shell, trapping the baton in his fist and his wrist awkwardly bent.

Seeing the broken bottle's cork at his feet, he turned to golf. Chat hit it hard with the tip of his baton, aiming straight at her brass goggles. The cork shot forward. Steampunk Nathalie snatched it out of the air mere seconds from impact. "Is that the best you've got?" She raised a skeptical eyebrow and dropped it disdainfully onto the floor.

Chat gulped hard and then forced a smile onto his face. "You know, Nathalie, I'm sure your boss's threats have you all  _agog_ -gled, but a woman of refinement like you should use words, not weapons to express her displeasure." Turning, he ran to the wall and jumped up onto the stack of large boxes.

"Your humor is deplorable." Nathalie leapt up after him, faster than he'd expected. The full skirts didn't slow her down at all. Chat attacked, but she easily dodged, snatching his belt-tail in one fist and slamming him back into the wall. Before he could recover, she grabbed his biceps in both hands and body slammed him again. His head hit the wall hard as the boxes beneath their feet rattled. That unusual obsidian butterfly had given her an insane amount of strength and speed.

Vision going a little fuzzy, he tried to shake off the pain and get loose, but she had him trapped. He kicked at Nathalie's legs, but the voluminous skirts deflected his kicks. "Stop dawdling and give me your Miraculous," she demanded severely, not even out of breath.

"Nope. I don't give gifts to strange older women. It sets up unsavory expectations," Chat explained earnestly.

Nathalie snarled and slapped him across the face for his cheeky reply. His head snapped to the side. Gritting his teeth, Chat ignored the sting and swiped at her entangling skirts with his claws in a bid to escape. He'd barely sliced through the first layer before she grabbed at his wrists with lightning speed and slammed his arms up next to his head. The staff glued to his hand rapped painfully against his ear.

Chat was really getting tired of slamming into this wall.

"Respect a woman's modesty or pay the consequences, brat," Nathalie threatened.

Chat's abused body throbbed. A niggle of worry worked its way to the front of his mind. Nathalie seemed much tougher than other super villains. Usually he got in at least a few hits by this point in a fight. Then again, his opponents also usually had a silly nickname and let themselves get distracted pursuing their own agendas. Nathalie seemed much more extreme than the usual akuma upgrade. Chat feared that he might not be able to defeat her on his own.

Straining away from the wall, he called out nonchalantly, "Hey, just wondering how it's going down there, Ladybug?"

"I can't get the cage open!" she cried with frustration.

"Stop worrying about me!" Marinette stubbornly shouted. "I'm a distraction and so is Nathalie. Get Hawk Moth!"

"Fine." Ladybug barked. Her red-suited form popped into view. Turning, she charged at the wall of butterflies surrounding Hawk Moth. The tornado of white thinned and then encircled her red form. For a second she disappeared. Then she flew out of the cloud, arms wind-milling as she hit the wall with a painful sounding thud.

Groaning, Ladybug pushed up to her feet and went to pull out her yoyo, only to be dive-bombed by a gray butterfly. She flinched back and flailed her arms. A swarm of sooty butterflies began harassing her, leaving red, irritated patches of skin wherever they touched.

"Stop dawdling, Nathalie! Finish them and get me their Miraculouses." Hawk Moth's voice boomed from behind his white shield.

The order distracted Nathalie. She instinctively turned towards her boss, changing the grip she had on Chat's wrists. Her gloves slipped as her fingers shifted. Immediately Chat twisted in the opposite direction and dropped his weight towards her thumbs. His arms ripped free and he wrenched himself away.

Snatching two handfuls of her bustle, he heaved her off the top of the boxes. She flew through the air, shrieking in rage, until her body slammed hard into the window and drove the air from her lungs. The window's glass panes boomed and cracked. Several pieces shattered, sending shards of glass spinning through the air like confetti as Nathalie crashed to the floor and stopped moving.

Marinette's voice cried out as glass rang against the bars of her cage like hail. Then the distinctive scent of her blood rose in the air. Scarlet trickled down her forehead and painted her eye. The red mask gave him a sickening moment of déjà vu, reminding him of last fall, when the super villains had abruptly gotten more violent and he'd had to track Ladybug's blood through the city until he finally found her.

Red dripped down her chin and onto her sling. Pressing her free hand hard against the wound, Marinette looked up. She met his gaze with big blue eyes trembling with tears and lips firmed in a stubborn refusal to cry out again.

Seeing that combination of vulnerability and strength trapped behind the bars of a cage turned his attempt at icy reason into a cloud of steam. Chat refused to take this for one more moment. He knew his partner had a plan, but no plan survived contact with the enemy and his Lady was trapped in a cage down there and bleeding. He had to get Marinette out before something even worse happened. He had to protect her. If his father stabbed him in the back in the process, then so be it.

Sprinting across the top of the boxes, Chat leapt towards the top of her cage. Marinette's eyes widened and she shook her head. "Forget about me, get Hawk Moth!" she cried, but it was too late.

"Cataclysm!" Chat snarled as he landed on the cage in a crouch. Gathering the crackling black energy in his fingertips, he slammed it into the metal bars beneath his feet. They disintegrated into rusty powder. The blue shell covering his hand also flecked off, freeing his wrist and baton.

Abruptly Chat found himself hanging in midair. Eyes widening, he dropped onto Marinette, barely missing squishing her flat. "Sorry," he winced guiltily, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

Unexpectedly, Marinette gave a wheezing chuckle. "When I punned, 'lettuce meat up one day,' I didn't mean we should literally become a sandwich. While you should be focusing on Hawk Moth, I can't help but be grateful for the rescue. Thanks."

Chat couldn't help but smile at her besottedly, his Ladybug and his best friend Marinette, both once more by his side.

Staring up into his face, she turned serious. Blue eyes darkening, she slowly stretched up and gently pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I missed you," she whispered achingly, as if revealing a precious secret.

"Yeah," Chat breathed, dazed at the touch of her lips and sweet words. "Me too."

Then Marinette looked over his shoulder and her eyes went wide. Even after all this time and without the mask, he still recognized and trusted that warning look. Chat tried to leap to his feet, but a gloved hand grabbed his ankle and yanked him flat.

"You broke my hat and made a mess!" Nathalie snarled with goggles askew. "Let's see if it's big enough in here to swing a cat." Dragging him backwards across the floor on his belly, Nathalie used her enhanced strength to spin him up into the air, flinging him at the already damaged window.

Chat smashed through the glass and flew out the other side. Landing hard in a patch of weeds, his head bounced hard against the ground. Distantly he heard his ring give a warning beep. Then everything went black.

* * *

Gritting her teeth, Ladybug finally pulled her yoyo out despite the swarming attackers getting in her way. The powder on the gray butterflies' wings was caustic, leaving burning trails along her cheek, neck, and the tip of one ear. Shaking her head vigorously to dislodge them, she whirled her yoyo through the air, creating a wind to blow the butterflies back.

As Ladybug glanced around the room for reinforcements, her heart sank. Chat was nowhere to be seen. Marinette was staring anxiously out of the now broken window and Nathalie was looking satisfied.  _Not a good combination._

Nevertheless, she was Ladybug. If she had to do this on her own, she would. Whipping her yoyo even faster through the air, she charged at the wall of butterflies surrounding Hawk Moth again. She was determined to get through.

From the corner of her eye, she saw something speeding towards her face. She ducked, barely dodging a bottle of blue goo thrown by Nathalie. It smashed against the wall at her back. Another broke at her feet, forcing her to somersault over the blue splatters to avoid getting trapped like a bug on flypaper.

Bouncing back to her feet, she gave a battle cry and carved a hole in the wall of butterflies with her spinning yoyo. The force of the wind flung them back against the wall. Before they could close ranks again, she dived, flipping off her hands and somersaulting up onto the desk to land in a crouch directly in front of Hawk Moth.

The corners of Hawk Moth's mouth tightened as he looked up at her over his glasses. Closing the ancient-looking tome in his hands, he set it on the corner of the desk. Then he flicked his fingers, dispersing the butterflies. "I suppose I must dirty my hands after all, since my minion has proved useless and the spell I seek elusive. You can either give me your Miraculous or I can take it from you."

Ladybug bared her teeth in a humorless smile. "Funny. Who knew you had a sense of humor? How about you give me  _your_  Miraculous or else I'll take it from  _you_. And dirty hands don't bother me at all."

Distantly she noticed the shiny brooch on his coat reflecting the red of her Ladybug costume like a fiery eye. The brooch was his Miraculous. She just had to take it and then this could finally be over. Paris and her friends would finally be safe.

Their gazes locked. Hawk Moth's pale eyes narrowed. A bead of sweat trickled down Ladybug's throat.

Then she lunged forward. Hawk Moth's cane swung up and slammed into her chest, blocking her less than a fingertip from her goal. He shoved her back on the desk. As she rocked on her heels, he swept at her legs with his cane. Barely dodging the trip, she teetered on the edge of the desk, arms flailing through the air for balance. The tome fell off the desk with a thump. Her eyes darted around desperately, trying to find something to give her an advantage in the fight.

Seeing the lamp with its cord trailing between Hawk Moth's feet, she snatched it up. Folding forward, she snapped the lamp cord sideways. Hawk Moth went sprawling. Throwing herself off the desk, she landed on top of him and grabbed at his Miraculous brooch. Hawk Moth cried out, but his hands quickly intercepted before she could rip it off. He pushed her arms up and away. Unfortunately, he had both a height and weight advantage. Twisting, he knocked her off and onto her back.

Ladybug grunted.

Hawk Moth rose to his knees with cane in hand. Snarling, he sliced it down through the air and towards her prone body. Ladybug frantically rocked her weight back onto her shoulders and kicked out. Her foot connected with his face, knocking him back. The cane clattered to the floor and rolled.

Scrambling to her knees, Ladybug pulled out her yoyo to tie up the dazed Hawk Moth, only to have her ponytail grabbed and yanked back hard. She cried out in shock and pain. Hair ripped and the muscles in her neck strained. Nathalie met her watering eyes with a grin. Eyes made bulbous by her goggle lenses, she winked, and then kneed Ladybug hard in the chest. The layers of Nathalie's petticoats provided no cushioning from the blow. Air exploded from Ladybug's mouth.

Lungs not working, Ladybug didn't have time to recover before Nathalie yanked her up using the grip on her hair and flung her back against the desk. Snatching a vial from her belt, Steampunk Nathalie threw it. The glass smashed against Ladybug's stomach, covering her with a cummerbund of blue goo.

Within seconds, it cemented her torso and arms against the side of the desk. No matter how she pulled, Ladybug couldn't get loose. She was trapped and defenseless. She still couldn't see Chat Noir anywhere and Marinette couldn't rescue her from super villains. Panic cycloned though her breast.

_What was she going to do?_

Nathalie stepped away, then came back dragging Marinette. The older girl looked grim, with the corners of her usually mobile mouth tight and red blood streaking one side of her pale face. Nathalie carelessly shoved Marinette towards the desk. She tripped forward and hit the desk with a wince.

The steampunked secretary stepped back and folded her arms demurely at her waist. "There, isn't that better?" Nathalie asked pleasantly. "The cat's been put outside, easily collected with the right bait, the bug is contained, and the mouse is cornered. Now order can be restored."

Ignoring her completely, Marinette turned to Ladybug. "Are you alright?"

She shrugged glumly within her blue prison. Marinette pursed her lips sympathetically. "Chat used his Cataclysm and then got thrown out the window. He hasn't come back yet," she said quietly.

Ladybug grimaced. That could be good or bad. According to the plan, they weren't supposed to use a Cataclysm or Lucky Charm until they had Marinette free and Hawk Moth cornered so neither of them got stuck fighting alone.

_Obviously he'd decided to throw that plan out the window, the jerk._

On the one hand, he could be recharging his kwami with camembert right now and preparing to come charging back. No way would he completely abandon them in the middle of a fight, especially not a fight like this. On the other hand, he might be missing because he'd gotten seriously hurt in the fall from the window. She wanted to hope for the best, but had to plan for the worst.

Unfortunately, her mind was drawing a blank. She didn't have a plan for things going this badly. She'd naively assumed that they'd win. A nudge from Marinette broke her from her mental rambling.

Dabbing at the cut on his mouth with a designer handkerchief, Hawk Moth came around the desk and stared down at the two of them. "I didn't anticipate this turn of events, but no matter. A little broken glass and a drop of blood are worth the price to have the Ladybug Miraculous finally be mine." Tossing aside the bloodstained cloth, he stepped forward.

Ladybug reared back fruitlessly.

Eyes burning with intensity, Hawk Moth reached for the Miraculous earrings in Ladybug's ears. "At last," he breathed.

No matter how much she strained, she couldn't get loose.  _This was it. The end. She'd lost._

Hawk Moth's fingers grabbed her left earlobe and began callously twisting her Miraculous Ladybug earring free.

Suddenly, Marinette cried out, "Ladybug's real name is-" the air became thick and the sound of her voice became distorted, "Ken…za… Bey! Ladybug is… really… KENZA BEY!"

A wall of pressure slammed down on the room, making Ladybug's knees go weak and her eyes cross. Abruptly it reversed, sucking back up to the ceiling in a dizzying spiral that cleared her sinuses unpleasantly. Her ears rang painfully. Then the sensations faded and everything became almost unnaturally quiet.

Looking muddled, Hawk Moth stumbled back. However, his fingers stayed clenched. The Miraculous earring went with him, ripping free of her earlobe.

The iconic red and black Ladybug mask and costume misted away, leaving behind Kenza dressed in paint-stained jeans, a t-shirt sporting a gray alien, and a jacket with bulging pockets. Everyone stared at her. Kenza's ears popped from the pressure, but only faintly.

A profound sense of loss filled Kenza's soul. She would never be Ladybug again. He'd stolen that from her. Anger bubbled up, attempting to mask the violation writhing through her mind. At that moment, she hated him.

"What was that?" he demanded.

Kenza stared back at him, stubbornly mute. The identity protection spell Tikki had told her about must have just shattered. Kenza had no idea what Marinette thought she was doing. Unfortunately, Kenza couldn't do anything but go along with it at this point. Hopefully Marinette had a good plan. Kenza's all involved kicking Hawk Moth in his narrow ferret face and then stomping on his thieving fingers. She glared into his eyes, hoping he would see the violent images in her mind.

"Well,  _Kenza_?" he asked pointedly. At her continued silence, he sighed impatiently. Then he grabbed her other ear. "Never mind. It doesn't matter who you are as long as the Ladybug Miraculous is now mine." With a sickening twist, he pulled her other earring off.

Poor Tikki spit out of the earrings and fell to the floor woozily. Her normally red complexion had turned almost brown. She looked ill. Kenza and Marinette both cried out at seeing Tikki's condition, but Hawk Moth walked away dismissively.

With the earrings cradled in one palm, he turned towards the setting sun. Closing his hand into a fist, he kissed it tenderly. "Time for you to come back from the grave, Marie. This time, I will do it right. I will rule and you will want for nothing. I will make you happy."

Clearing his throat, he turned to his evilized assistant. "Well done, Nathalie. Search the former Ladybug's pockets for food to give to the kwami."

"Yes, Sir," she curtsied.

Rifling through Kenza's pockets, Nathalie pulled out a package of cookies, a triangle of cheese, and a granola bar. Kenza glared at her from inches away and thought about the merits of biting. She barely managed to restrain herself. Ripping them open, Nathalie dropped them all onto the floor next to shallowly panting Tikki. "Eat."

Marinette went to crouch down to help Tikki, but before she could, Nathalie snapped, "No! Stay where you are. I don't care how hungry you are after a day without food. The food is for the kwami. Try to take one and I'll glue you in place too." Shooting her an offended glare, Marinette mulishly settled back by Kenza's side.

Whiskers drooping, Tikki looked at the food with despair. Ignoring everything but the cookies, she slowly picked one up and sighed. She bit, chewed unenthusiastically, and swallowed. The food seemed to help. Her breathing evened out and her color shifted to maroon.

"Let us begin, kwami," Hawk Moth ordered Tikki as he ripped open an alcohol wipe and cleaned off the Ladybug earrings. "I own your Miraculous, so now you serve me."

Raising her head nobly, Tikki roused from her melancholy, "I serve luck, mercy, and justice. I've partnered with many noble men and women in those causes. You, however, are a bully. I will not serve you."

Irritation twisting his features, he shrugged. "If you will not serve willingly, you will be enslaved. A creature as old as you should know your place by now." Pulling a kit out of the desk, he propped up a mirror, uncovered his ears from his face mask, and pierced them with a needle.

Kenza desperately wished she knew how to stop him, but she still couldn't think of a way to get free. Cold despair swirled up through her veins in a rising tide. This slow drowning of hope was tortuous as each moment brought them closer to Hawk Moth's total victory.

Eyes burning feverishly, Hawk Moth slid the Ladybug earrings into his ears. It made Kenza's stomach turn. Looking down at Tikki, he snapped, "Spots on!"

Immediately Tikki rose two feet into the air. Then she fell back to the floor with a plop. "Oh!" she exclaimed, started. "Oh dear, I don't feel good." She flopped onto her back with a groan.

"Yes!" Marinette breathed gleefully.

Brows beetling, Hawk Moth tried again. "Spots on!"

Tikki's antenna shot up into the air for a second before flopping back down. Otherwise she didn't move.

Expression thunderous, Hawk Moth turned to his bookcase and pulled out an old book. He flipped to a bookmarked page. After a moment of reading, he looked back up and began repeated the activating phrase in a variety of languages, all to to no avail. Kenza only recognized Arabic and Berber from visiting her grandparents in Morocco. His movements became more and more staccato as nothing he did worked.

Abruptly he chucked the book at the wall.  _Bang!_ Everyone jumped. Hawk Moth stood with his back to them, fists clenched and breathing heavily.

"Perhaps the kwami needs to eat more before becoming recharged, Sir." Nathalie suggested hesitantly.

"Unlikely. Our battle with Ladybug shouldn't have drained her that much," he growled, turning back.

"Could there be interference from your current Miraculous?" Nathalie carefully asked.

Picking up a different book, Hawk Moth flipped through the pages. "Combining Miraculouses has been done before. It supposedly has a synergistic power effect. There isn't mention of combining the Moth and Ladybug Miraculouses specifically, but it shouldn't matter."

The Ladybug earrings gleaming in his ears looked so wrong next to that mask. It made Kenza feel ill. Hopefully he'd never figure out how to make them work.

"It shouldn't matter, but it would be foolish not to test it." Hawk Moth grimaced and dropped the book back onto the desk. "Wings down."

Hawk Moth transformed, revealing businessman and fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste. It was so bizarre. Even after seeing Marinette's photos, it was still hard to believe that someone so famous was really Paris's famous super villain. A light purple kwami with trailing wings slipped out of his brooch and dropped heavily onto the desk. He didn't meet anyone's eyes.

Abruptly the blue vice around Kenza disappeared. It was so unexpected that her legs went boneless and she started sliding to the floor. Marinette snatched at her elbow, giving her just enough time to stiffen her knees and keep herself upright.

"Spots on," Gabriel thundered demandingly.

Still nothing happened.

The purple kwami trudged morosely over to a drawer and pulled it open. Grabbing a package out, he floated down to the floor next to Tikki. Then he leaned sympathetically against Tikki's prone form and began to eat. After a few bites he took her hand. Tikki's color slowly morphed from maroon to a slightly healthier burgundy.

"Nooroo," Tikki sighed gratefully. She patted his hand and looked up. Seeing the worry in the eyes of her former Ladybugs, she gave them a small smile and winked. Kenza felt a surge of relief at the gesture. Tikki then rolled to her side with a theatrically loud and pitiful groan.

"What did you make me do?" Nathalie's broken cry split the air. Once more dressed in a turtleneck and pantsuit, she lifted trembling fingers to her mouth and looked around. Two tears dripped down her bloodless face.

"Your job," Mr. Agreste snapped unsympathetically, "but I don't make anyone to do anything. I only empower, providing guidance and unshackling potential."

In response, Nathalie hiccupped pitifully and rubbed hard at her eyes, smudging her makeup.

Gabriel sighed in disgust. "If you can't keep a professional decorum, you should leave for the day. I'll page you if I need you again."

"Y-yes, Sir. Of course. Thank you, Sir." Sniffling, Nathalie turned and stumbled up the stairs. Within a few steps, she began sobbing and wailing into her hands. At the top she ran for the exit. Seconds later the door bounced against the wall loudly.

However, it never slammed shut again. Nathalie's cries disappeared, replaced by the sound of steady footsteps. Kenza braced herself. She didn't think they could count on rescue. Somehow, she'd have to get both herself and Marinette out of here. Letting her eyes drift, she looked around for something to fight with, preferably a fencing foil, but really she'd take anything at this point.

Then the unknown person came to the top of the stairs and looked down. "Father?"

 _So, Adrien Agreste was evil after all,_ Kenza thought despairingly.

* * *

_What was Adrien doing here?_

Marinette felt faint.  _Oh no._   _How could she protect her friend when she couldn't even protect herself?_  The room spun sickeningly. Black spots filled her vision, nausea churned in her belly, and everything turned sideways. If she really did faint right now, she'd never forgive herself. This was the worst possible moment.

Sliding down the side of the desk and onto the floor, she lost control of her muscles. Marinette leaned forward and gagged. Stomach empty after a day without food or drink, nothing came up but a bit of acidic bile that burned her throat. She swallowed it back before it escaped and tried to breathe shallowly. Everything hurt, even the roots of her hair.

"Marinette!" cried a duet of voices.

Hands rubbed her back soothingly. Fighting through the weakness, she kept blinking her eyes and swallowing until everything settled. "Sorry," she croaked miserably. Looking up, she met green eyes.

"There's nothing to be sorry for." Adrien's face looked both serious and sad.

Wrapping an arm around Marinette, Kenza helped her sit up. She then thoughtfully adjusted the sling on Marinette's shoulder, which had gotten twisted uncomfortably during her heaving. Giving Marinette a pat, she angled her body in front of Marinette and glared at Adrien distrustfully.  _What, did Kenza think Adrien was a threat?_   _Ridiculous._

Ignoring the posturing, Adrien reached around Kenza to take Marinette's hand. His large, warm fingers pressed something into her palm and then squeezed, rubbing a thumb along the back in circles. The touch short-circuited her brain. She could blame it on physical injuries, emotional trauma, or low-blood sugar, but deep down she knew that the reason everything but his face and touch became meaningless was due to the lid on her epic crush blasting off into space, sending her messy adoration exploding all over the place.

Marinette blinked dreamily into Adrien's opal green eyes. His sexy mouth went soft. "I believe in you." Her poor heart went pitter patter in joy. Then Adrien's sweet words turned strange. "When you get the chance, jump up on my shoulders to get at the head."

"Huh?" Kenza said, voicing Marinette's confusion. That old joke about her protecting his head wasn't funny. Marinette wasn't going to be doing any jumping in her state. Right now, she was hurt and useless.  _What was he talking about?_

At the look on her face, he squeezed her fingers again. Despite the circumstances, her skin tingled at the continued press of his skin. "You'll figure it out," he stated confidently, then winked flirtatiously. Face bursting into flames, Marinette dropped her eyes to look at the object he'd pressed into her hand.

Before she could uncurl her fingers, Mr. Agreste's voice popped their bubble of intimacy. "If you're quite done, Adrien, perhaps you'd care to tell me what you are doing here?" he snapped, anger and irritation threading the sharp needle of his voice.

Every muscle in her body tensed.  _How could she have forgotten Gabriel's dangerous presence even for a moment? Stupid Marinette, focus!_ If only she didn't hurt so much. Thinking was starting to feel like moving through cold mud.

Standing up, Adrien turned to face his father, placing himself in front of them. His position exposed a painful looking scrape across the back of his head. It ran down his neck from a swollen lump behind his ear and disappeared beneath his shirt collar. A spiky yellow seed sat camouflaged in his golden hair.

"You need to let them go," Adrien told his father firmly, distracting Marinette from her perusal.

A muscle ticked in Mr. Agreste's jaw. "Don't be ridiculous. You shouldn't be here, Adrien. You need to leave."

"These are my friends. I won't abandon them. What is going on? Please dad, for once, just tell me the truth." The only light in the room came from the broken window where the sun hung heavy and low in the sky. Stepping forward away from the desk, Adrien lifted a hand towards his father pleadingly. For a moment, his bare fingers seemed to become the source of light in the room instead of merely reflecting it. He looked beautiful. "Please, say something." Adrien repeated.

Clenching his fists, Mr. Agreste stepped towards his son. "You don't want to know, son. I'm taking care of it. Now leave!"

Hand dropping uselessly to his side, Adrien shook his head stubbornly. "No, I'm done with leaving. I'm done with silence. This ends here and now. I want to know why you captured my friends. Why did you become Hawk Moth?"

Pursing his lips, Gabriel examined his son's face. He gave a sharp nod. "Very well, if you must know, I am going to resurrect your mother using the power of the Ladybug Miraculous. Once I do that, the girls are unimportant to me and may go."

"What?" Adrien looked staggered. "You can- you can do that? Bring mom back?" His voice sounded painfully young and hopeful.

"Traitor," Kenza muttered under her breath. "I knew it."

Marinette elbowed her in the side to keep her quiet. Sure it looked bad, but Kenza didn't know Adrien the way Marinette did ( _and it wasn't just her massive crush talking_ ). Adrien was a good person. Kenza couldn't possibly understand the situation.

Pursing her lips, Kenza nevertheless subsided.

Gabriel's face softened. "Yes, son. I'm going to use Ladybug's magic to force death to give Marie back, just like it brought back those people in the mall bombing. That's why I'm doing this, why I've done all of this. Don't you see? I became Hawk Moth for you."

"That's a lie!" Marinette blurted out, everything in her rebelling at his words. "You're doing this for yourself. Don't you dare blame Hawk Moth's evils on him!"

Turning to Adrien, she softened her tone. "It's been too long and the Ladybug magic can only do so much. I'm sorry, but your mother isn't coming back. Perhaps he's tricked himself into believing it, but it won't work. Magic can't solve everything and neither can force."

Face falling, Adrien searched her eyes desperately. She wished she could give him the hope he sought, but she refused to lie to him. Not about this.

In the face of her unwavering conviction, he bowed his head, green eyes going liquid.

"Don't listen to her. I'm your father and I know what I'm doing," Gabriel snarled. "This will work. I will make it work!"

"Force is all you know," Marinette said icily, looking up at him from her seat on the floor. "But life and love won't be forced. If you loved Marie as much as you say you do, you wouldn't use her memory to do things she would hate."

Gabriel's face went purple with rage. The expression on his face scared her, but it was too late to back down now.

Before he could recover enough to talk, Marinette used Kenza's shoulder to lever herself back up to her feet. Arguing from the floor made her feel weak, even if she did have to struggle to decide which of the three swaying Gabriels to focus on until her vision steadied. "If this was truly done for Adrien, you would have given him more time and attention over the years. I understand that you want your wife back, but if that had really been your most important goal, you should have ignored Chat Noir to focus on getting Ladybug's Miraculous all along. Instead, you've spent years pursuing both of their Miraculouses to gain ultimate power for yourself.

"Power is more important to you than family and more important to you than love. You want your wife, you want your son, but you need the power. You act like having power will make everything else fall into place, but life doesn't work that way," Marinette argued passionately.

Gabriel Agreste glared down at her with eyes of arctic ice. He had red spots high on his cheeks and his fingers trembled with barely suppressed emotions. "What does a spoiled child like you know about power or love? You grew up in a mediocre happy little family, living over a bakery, always warm and with a full belly. I grew up with parents who despised each other and lived inside a veneer of decaying opulence. Food came secondary to a fresh coat of paint on the front door. Children were either silent or slaving. Everything I am, my entire Gabriel Empire,  _I_  forced into being with my sweat, blood, and iron will. That powerful empire earned me the hand of my wife. That power brought me my son. Life and love  _do_  work that way," he bit out haughtily.

"No, dad, it doesn't," Adrien denied, a solitary tear escaping to trickle down his cheek. "I'm sorry you grew up like that, but Mom didn't love you because of money or power. She loved you because you always tried your best and because when she felt sad, you helped her remember how to smile."

Sucking in a breath, Mr. Agreste's face crumpled in pain.

Adrien wiped his cheek and stepped up to his father. "I love you because you're my dad." His voice cracked. "I love you because I still remember how we used to play superheroes using your fabric samples as capes and how you would sneak into my room at midnight to untangle my sheets. Even though we haven't been close in a long time, I still love you and I know that you love me. Can't that be enough? Please?"

Reaching out, Gabriel ran shaking fingers over his son's golden hair and down to cup his cheek. "I do love you, son."

"Then stop this madness and be a family with me again. Be the good man I remember. I need you to be a father I can look up to and count on, not- not Hawk Moth." Looking earnestly into his father's face, Adrien bit his lip hopefully.

Marinette felt her heart swell.  _How could anyone resist a plea like that?_  However, as the silence in the room lengthened, her optimism deflated. Gabriel's emotions disappeared back behind his mask as he stared at his son.

The corners of Adrien's mouth slid down.

Finally Gabriel took a step back. "I will always love you, Adrien, but as your father I have to do what I think is best. Life is complicated. You're young and sheltered. You should follow my lead. When you're older, you'll understand." His face looked as hard and cold as marble. "It would be best if you went back up to the house now."

Adrien looked heartbroken. His heartfelt plea had failed. Throat bobbing, he swallowed hard. Then he squared his shoulders and lifted his chin stubbornly. "No, I'll never understand. The parents I knew raised me to treat people with kindness and compassion. They raised me to be a good man. What you are doing is wrong. I will not be a part of hurting others, not even passively."

"As my son, you will do what you are told," Gabriel ordered.

Adrien nodded slowly. "So be it."

Kenza tensed and Marinette's breathing stuttered in utter disbelief.

Before Gabriel could fully relax, Adrien continued speaking. "As my father, I would have followed you anywhere, but I can't follow you in this. If you force me to choose, I will choose to be my mother's son. I will protect my friends, even from you."

Eyes narrowing, Gabriel snarled a reply and cut his hand through the air.

As father and son argued back and forth, Kenza leaned close to whisper, "We should get you out of here while they're distracted."

Heaving a sigh, Marinette scratched at the dried blood on her cheek and then tried to stand upright without Kenza's support. It didn't go very well as she swayed on her feet. "Well, that's that. I don't think my legs will carry me very far. I'm running on fumes as it is. I've been using most of my energy to run my mouth." They exchanged wry smiles. Injecting confidence into her voice, Marinette suggested, "Maybe you could go and bring back help?"

Before she could finish, Kenza was already shaking her head adamantly. "I'm not leaving you behind. No way."

Putting her hand on the desk to steady herself, Marinette realized she still had her hand fisted around whatever Adrien had pressed into it earlier. Every time she'd gone to look at it, she'd gotten distracted or interrupted. Uncurling her fingers, she finally looked down. A silver ring sat in the middle of her palm.

Suddenly everything turned to static. She knew this ring. This was Chat Noir's Miraculous ring.

But she'd seen it elsewhere too. She knew this ring because it was Adrien's ring. He always wore this ring.

They both always wore this ring.

Head whipping up, she stared wide-eyed at Adrien's tousled blond hair and flashing green eyes, at his height and build and the way he shifted his weight on the balls of his feet as he argued. She wished she could blame her head wound on the double vision suddenly rioting through her memories. Her fingers closed convulsively around the silver ring. How could she have missed it? It was so obvious.

Chat Noir was Adrien Agreste.

Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir.

Everything flashed white and then black as Marinette fainted. Opening her eyes, she found herself flat on her back, blinking up at the shadowed ceiling only faintly lit by the sunset. Kenza's alarmed face hovered over her. "Marinette? Are you okay?"

"Did I drop it?" Marinette gasped, straining to sit up as she frantically brought her fist in front of her face.

"Drop what?" Kenza asked stressfully, shoving her hand behind Marinette's head to stop it from smacking back against the cement floor as Marinette's abdominal muscles boycotted the movement and dropped her back flat.

Cracking open her fingers until she saw the glint of silver, Marinette sighed gustily and pressed her hand to her chest. "Still got it."

On the other side of the desk, she could still hear the Agrestes arguing vociferously. They were too caught up in each other to notice her nosedive.

"Got what?" demanded Kenza with annoyance. Then her eyes caught sight of something beneath the desk and lit up with wicked glee. Carefully sliding her hand out from behind Marinette's head, Kenza scooted sideways. Reaching beneath the desk, she pulled out Gabriel's black cane. Kenza tucked it against her body and then looked back at Marinette with renewed fire in her eyes. "I have an idea. As long as the son doesn't interfere, I think I can knock Gabriel down. That should give me the chance to take his Miraculouses. If you're up for it, you can help me trip him. Otherwise, you can get Adrien out of my way. Well, that or just focus on keeping yourself conscious over here."

Marinette looked up at her friend and smiled. "Once a Ladybug, always a Ladybug. We don't need magic to be heroes, do we? Help me up."

"You sure?" Kenza asked. "This floor looks pretty comfortable."

"I've been sitting on it all day. It's really not. Help me up. On three," ordered Marinette. "One, two, three." Kenza took her arm and heaved the older girl to her feet. The world swayed, but Marinette managed through sheer force of will not to faint again.

Keeping a firm hold, Kenza asked, "You going to be okay?"

"Just give me a minute," Marinette gritted out. Staring over Kenza's shoulder as her pulse pounded in her ears, she blearily saw an insect zip in through the broken window. Several more followed. As her balance steadied, they landed right in front of her nose on Kenza's shoulder.

"Ladybugs," Marinette whispered excitedly.

Five ladybugs crawled down Kenza's arm. Two stopped at her wrist while the other three climbed over her fingers and onto Marinette. A plan flowered in Marinette's mind. "We're like Marlene," Marinette breathed. "Luck will follow and favor a Ladybug for the rest of their lives. It clings to us."

"That's nice, but how does it help us now?" Kenza asked with a raised brow.

Slipping the silver Miraculous ring on, Marinette felt it shrink down to fit her finger. She expected it to feel strange, but it didn't. It felt like an old friend. Marinette slid her arm through Kenza's grip until she could take her friend's hand and press the metal against her skin.

"What-," Kenza broke off in shock and looked down. "Where did you get that? When?"

"Adrien," Marinette answered simply.

Eyes going wide, Kenza did a double-take at Adrien. "The pretty boy?" she asked in disbelief. "He's the old man—"

For the first time in over twenty-four hours, Marinette felt like laughing. "Yes," she smiled. Then she leaned close and explained her plan. "When combined, Luck and Chaos are the ultimate power. We can't call for a Lucky Charm to help defeat Hawk Moth, but I think we can pool our resources to create an  _Un_ lucky Charm."

"It sounds like a stretch, but then again, I'm not about to stop following your lead now. I trusted you in that mall and I trust you now. I'm in," Kenza said earnestly. "How do we do this?"

Marinette blanked. She hadn't gotten that far in her plan yet. "Um…."

"Transforming into Chat Noir won't work," a male voice hissed. From the shadows snuck out a feline black kwami.

"Who are you?" Kenza asked suspiciously.

Rolling his eyes, he sighed. "I'm Plagg, kwami of Chaos and all-around awesomeness. You have to have heard of me. I create Chat Noir. Anyone, anyone?"

"Yes, Plagg, hi. What do you mean, transforming won't work?" Marinette asked impatiently. She furtively looked over, but Gabriel was still distracted by his son. They'd advanced to arm waving and sharp gestures.

Plagg crossed his arms and leaned forward. "You can't combine your luck magic with my chaos magic if you transform. The chaos will be too strong and overwhelm it. I mean, just look at me. I am not one of the weaker kwami." He ran his hands across his fur preeningly.

"Plagg, focus," Kenza hissed.

He sighed. "To make this work, you two need to pool your lingering luck magic around my Miraculous and then call for the Unlucky Charm. You have to completely believe that it will appear, just like your Lucky Charms always did. Otherwise it will probably fail. It'll probably fail anyways, but I'll cross my fingers for you."

"Thanks," Marinette said flatly, then turned her mind back to strategy. "I think we need to have something specific in mind for the charm before we start. If he's right, the magic is probably too weak to find the perfect tool by itself. Maybe a net or rope?" Marinette suggested.

Nibbling on her lips, Kenza considered her suggestion. Then she looked over at the father and son and began to smile wickedly. "Let's use a cat's cradle, that children's game with the loop of string. It seems a fitting tribute to trap Hawk Moth up in something named after a cat."

Marinette's lips twitched. "I like it. Once it's here though, we won't have much time. We can't let him turn into Hawk Moth or he'll be too strong for us. We throw it and then you attack."

"What if Adrien gets in the way, even instinctively?" Kenza asked hesitantly. "It's still his dad."

"He'll get out of the way if I tell him to," Marinette said with more confidence than she really felt.

"Then let's do this." Kenza threw back her shoulders and took a deep breath.

They turned until they stood shoulder-to-shoulder. The two former Ladybugs clasped hands. "Good luck," Marinette said quickly. Kenza squeezed her fingers in response.

Raising their clasped hands into the air, believing for all they were worth, they cried out in unison, "Unlucky charm!"

Instantly Plagg shot towards their hands in a black blur. In the split-second before he hit, his body morphed into a cord of crackling black energy. It wrapped around their clasped hands and draped onto the floor. When Marinette looked down, she saw a loop and two X's making up the largest cat's cradle she'd ever seen. The magic of the ring buzzed unpleasantly against her skin, twisted away from its usual form. She wasn't sure how long it would last.

As one unit, they heaved the cat's cradle up into the air and flung it directly at where Gabriel Agreste stood shouting toe-to-toe at his son.

"Chat, down!" Marinette commanded with a snap, her heart in her throat.

Immediately, Adrien dropped to the floor and rolled to the side.

Gabriel's head snapped up. He flung out a hand defensively, catching a black X in one fist, but the rest of the ebony net dropped over his body and tangled around his limbs.

Letting go of Marinette's hand, Kenza leapt forward and swung the cane. He saw her coming, but couldn't dodge because of the cat's cradle. Kenza hit him in the back of the knees, sending him crashing to the floor.

"No!" Gabriel snarled, fighting against the entangling black net. In his frenzy he slammed into Kenza, sending her sprawling back hard against the desk. A drawer broke, scattered its contents across the floor. "Wings ou—," he cried.

Before he could finish the phrase, Adrien pounced on his father. Without a second of hesitation, he ripped the Moth Miraculous brooch off his father's chest. "No more butterflies," Adrien swore. "No more victims."

Fury and betrayal boiled across Gabriel's face. The black cat's cradle crisscrossed his body from shoulder to ankle, keeping him trapped. Otherwise, he looked like he might rise up and do something unhinged.

Turning, Adrien tossed the Miraculous brooch to Kenza, who caught it with a startled look on her face. Hands once more free, he leaned forward and removed the stolen Miraculous earrings from Gabriel's ears. Cradling them in his hands like something infinitely precious, Adrien stood up and took a step back from his father. With shame in his eyes, Adrien said, "These are meant for women brave and bold and kind, not for men like you, no matter your motivations."

Gabriel pursed his lips, but stayed silent as he continued to test his bonds for weakness.

Weaving forward unsteadily until she stood between her friends, Marinette looked down at Gabriel Agreste tied up on the floor. He still struggled to get free. Even with his magic ripped away, he didn't want to give up. In other circumstances, she'd admire him. Right now, however, she felt sadness and disappointment. "It's over, Mr. Agreste. Once gone, a Miraculous can never be taken back."

"What does a girl like you know about the Miraculouses," he gritted out, stopping his struggles to glare up at her harshly, still arrogant despite his current predicament.

Marinette met his gray eyes and refused to be cowed. His opinion no longer had the power to hurt her. She knew her own worth. "I know because  _I was Ladybug._  I used the earrings to fight you for three years. When I became too injured to continue, I freely gave my Miraculous to Kenza to keep Paris safe," she gestured to her friend.

The arrogance melted off his face to be replaced by shock as he looked back and forth between the two girls. He shook his head as if drunk and then laughed bitterly before abruptly cutting himself off. Awkwardly sitting up with glasses sitting askew on his face, his unfocused eyes darted from side to side, still trying to salvage the situation and somehow win. Maybe he didn't know how to give up.

Turning back to Marinette, he suddenly zeroed in on her hand. "That looks like Chat Noir's ring," Gabriel said with calculation. His tongue darted out to lick his lips and the muscles in his legs tensed as if to spring.

Just in case he thought to take the ring and use it to escape, Marinette clenched her hand into a fist and took a shaky step backwards.

"Chat Noir freely gave her his Miraculous to keep Paris safe," Adrien said, echoing her earlier words.

Gabriel blinked at him uncomprehendingly.

Taking a deep breath, Adrien stepped over to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Marinette. " _I_  gave it to her as  _Chat Noir_ ," he emphasized starkly.

Gabriel's entire body flinched. Staring at his son as if he'd never seen him before, his eyes slowly widened in horrified understanding and then narrowed in guilt. His head began shaking back and forth, as if trying to deny the truth that the person he'd hurt so many times over the years had been his son.

Staring square into his father's eyes, Adrien continued unflinchingly. "Within my first year as Chat Noir, I lost count of how many times I almost died protecting Paris from you. I've seen the pain of your victim's firsthand. None of them deserved what you did to them. Some prices are too high to pay, no matter the reward."

Shoulders curling forward, a sheen of wetness began gathering in Gabriel's dazed eyes. His son's confession finally did what being tied up and deprived of magical artifacts hadn't. It made him feel guilty and broke his drive to win at any cost. For Gabriel, his son was probably the only price he wouldn't willingly pay.

"Today, the good guys won," Kenza interjected, breaking the heavy silence with her youthful elation. Then she looked over and blinked at her friends, suddenly dazed. "We won. Is it really over?"

Looking down at the defeated man who'd done so much harm, Marinette didn't feel triumph or hate. She just felt pity. "It is over. You'll have to find a way to make peace with that, Mr. Agreste."

Marinette also felt tired.  _Very, very tired._  "Maybe without all of the fighting, we can finally start living our lives again. Despite everything, I wish you luck finding that peace."

"There is no peace without Marie," Gabriel whispered brokenly.

Abruptly the magical cat's cradle dissolved. It swirled into smoke before coalescing back into Plagg. The black kwami settled down next to Tikki and Nooroo with a, "Hey guys." He wrapped his arm around Tikki's shoulders and unrepentantly threw one leg over Nooroo's ankle. The other kwamis sighed with seeming annoyance, but didn't bother moving away.

Stretching out his hand, Gabriel dragged something from beneath a pile of scattered papers. Glass tinkled onto the floor from a broken picture frame. Even with the deepening shadows, Marinette recognized the familiar face of his wife, Marie. She had sparkling green eyes and lips quirked with a barely restrained smile as she rested one hand high on her pregnant belly. Everything about her radiated joy.

As Gabriel jerkily pulled at the damaged frame, it broke. The photograph of Marie unexpectedly tore in half. A desolate wail escaped Gabriel's mouth as his fingers scrabbled to pick up and reunite her head and body into one whole. Shakily fisting a scrap of paper in each hand, he buried his face against his fists and collapsed forward. Rocking back and forth on his knees, he broke into hopeless sobs.

"And so this turn of the cycle is finally over," Nooroo wearily announced. His light purple wing fluttered as rose into the air. Looking around solemnly at Marinette, Kenza, and Adrien, he inclined his head. "Thank you for your service in freeing me."

Then he froze and his child-like eyes became wide and anxious, "Unless you all intend to make use of your new Miraculouses?"

It took Marinette's slow brain a few seconds to understand his meaning. None of them could go back to the superheroes they'd been, but they could be new ones with the Miraculouses they now held. She rubbed the silver ring on her finger. Marinette could be powerful again… but to what end? With Hawk Moth defeated, Paris didn't need superheroes anymore, it needed everyday heroes.

"No, this belongs to you," Kenza answered for all of them, steadily holding out the Miraculous brooch on the palm of one hand.

"Thank you." Nooroo wiped a tear from his cheek and then picked up the brooch. Hugging it tight to his chest, he turned to the other kwami. "I look forward to dreaming with you again soon, my friends." Without another word, he zoomed out the broken window and disappeared into the purple clouds of dusk.

"Are you going to leave too?" Kenza asked Tikki vulnerably. "We just won. You can't leave now."

Tikki, once more cherry red from cuddling with Plagg, flew up into the air. "I'm sorry, but the cycle is complete. It's time for us kwami to go back to dreaming. That has always been the way of things," Tikki explained matter-of-factly.

"However, that doesn't mean I won't miss you. I'm so proud of you," Tikki said, suddenly emotional as she flew over to give Kenza a fierce hug. "I'm so proud of both of you," she exclaimed, darting over to hug Marinette too.

At Tikki's touch, the persistent ache in Marinette's shoulder melted away and she felt a little less like death warmed over. "Goodbye, Tikki. I'll never forget you," Marinette said thickly. "You were wonderful." She smiled at Tikki through her tears.

Tikki sniffled as a crystalline tear traced down the apples of her cheeks. "As long as I live, I will always remember you. I never forget my Ladybugs. You were magnificent. Thank you." She tenderly touched Marinette's cheek, then flew over and whispered something in Kenza's ear that made the girl laugh even as she crumpled into fresh tears.

A few feet away, Adrien and Plagg held a similar conversation, though one with a lot more teasing and manly posturing. "I won't be there to look after you anymore, kid, so make sure you take care of yourself, maybe let that girl over there take care of you too. She's not me, but she did a pretty good job with the earrings and my ring. Also, you need to learn to appreciate camembert."

"Sure, Plagg," Adrien said softly, his cheeks and eyes both red from the events of the day. "You were annoying and stinky, but I'll miss seeing you every day. Thanks for everything."

"Yeah, I'll miss you too," Plagg confessed. "You were one of the best Chat Noir's I've ever had. No one's ever given me that much cheese before." Darting forward, he gave Adrien a quick hug. "Be happy and eat the delicious stinky cheese!" he ordered with a wobbly smile. "Don't let yourself get too mopey."

Blinking rapidly, Adrien nodded and gave a forced smile. "Sure, I'll adopt a cat and name it Plagg, then neuter it and feed it nothing but dry food so it'll whine all the time and remind me of you."

Plagg laughed. "As long as Plagg's a handsome cat. Besides, I know your threats are empty. You're too much of a soft touch. He'll have you flying in sushi-grade tuna within the month." He raised a hand in farewell. "So long, Adrien."

"Bye, Plagg," Adrien smiled, a mixture of sadness, exasperation, and helpless love.

Farewells said, the kwami took back the Miraculous ring and earrings. Tikki waved and smiled sweetly while Plagg simply nodded. Then they flew out into the golden sliver of the setting sun seconds before it disappeared behind the horizon, taking their silhouettes with it.

"What do we do now?" Kenza asked with bewilderment as shadows gathered in the broken observatory.

"We live," Marinette said, looking between Kenza and Adrien with a hopeful smile.

Then the events of the last two days caught up with Marinette all at once. With nothing left to fight for, her body put up the white flag. Marinette dropped as the muscles in her legs gave out.

Before she could hit the floor, Adrien caught her in his arms and slowed her descent.

"Marinette!" Kenza cried anxiously.

Fighting to keep her eyes open, Marinette clutched at Adrien's arm. "I want... to eat macarons with you… at my bakery."

"It's a date," Adrien promised. Despite the bruised look in his eyes, he gave her the sweetest smile. Then he sealed it by dropping a lingering kiss on her forehead. Marinette's eyes slipped shut as warmth spread through her aching and chilled body. Cradled in his arms, she let herself stop fighting.

Despite everything, Marinette had done it. Without super powers or even two working arms, she'd been a hero and helped save Paris. She'd even ended up in the arms of the man she loved. Eyes closed, Marinette smiled proudly.  _Not too bad for an awkward, half-Chinese fashion designer who lived above a bakery._

Tomorrow was the start of a brand new life. Marinette couldn't wait. Hugging her optimism close, she slipped into sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and giving me your support! I hope you enjoyed this final chapter. I'm glad I took a chance on you guys when I decided to write some serious themes in the Ladybug Fandom. Not everyone wanted to take this journey to the end with me, so for those who stayed the course, thank you so very much. I cherish every review you've given me.
> 
> There will be a happy little epilogue exploring Adrinette's budding relationship, but I probably won't write it for a month or so. I promised to do a writing challenge for July that I've been looking forward to (A gender bending Stargate: Atlantis with a female Dr. Mckay). Until I see you again in August, have a Miraculous summer!


	19. Epilogue of LOVE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it to the end! As promised, the happiness and sweetness now overfloweth. Don’t forget to check out my Indygodusk tumblr (https://indygodusk.tumblr.com/) for pictures and outfit inspirations. I love you guys!

 

Rose-gold light filled Marinette’s room, heralding daybreak. Already dressed for the day, she sat on top of her covers with her arms tucked around her knees. Softly and slowly, the city began to gleam butter yellow as the sun finally finished cresting the horizon.

Neither the pale light of predawn nor the bright shine of sunrise could make sense of the thoughts jostling through Marinette’s mind. Three days ago, she’d woken up at the hospital. After hugs and kisses, her parents had explained what had happened. Supposedly, she’d gotten stuck in an abandoned building and passed out. Gabriel Agreste had seen her body on the ground and had a mental breakdown, thinking for a second that she was his missing wife. Adrien and her friend Kenza had found them both and called the police.

That’s not how Marinette remembered it.

Nevertheless, she’d confirmed the story. Marinette even added the detail of how a gang of boys had chased her through the streets, prompting her to try and hide. That part was even true.

Marinette desperately wanted to talk to her friends, but she didn’t have a cell phone and the kind of things she wanted to talk about weren’t things she could discuss in front of her parents with the phone downstairs. Her parents also weren’t willing to let her go anywhere alone for the foreseeable future. _It was so frustrating!_ Some of the events of that evening seemed cloudy because of her injuries and dehydration, but she knew deep down to her bones that they’d definitely _won_. She couldn’t have just imagined that.

They’d defeated Hawk Moth, who’d been Gabriel Agreste. _Go team!_ Paris was now safe. _Yay!_ The kwami had said goodbye, taking their Miraculouses with them. _Bittersweet._ And Adrien Agreste, her Adrien, had been Chat Noir the entire time.

_Adrien_ ! was _Chat_!

They—he? also may or may not have agreed to date her right before she’d passed out. The boy(s) she had a crush on also liked her—Marinette. _Had she actually confirmed with Adrien that he knew she’d been Ladybug?_ She couldn’t remember. _He couldn’t think Kenza had been Ladybug the whole time, could he?_ What a mess. _How did you even bring something like that up? What if Adrien had only agreed to date Marinette out of pity for the poor broken girl who’d been locked up by his father?_ Groaning, Marinette dropped her forehead to her knees.

Rolling her head back and forth, she looked over at her wall and barely suppressed hysterical laughter. She’d taken down her shrine to Adrien when they’d become good enough friends that he might end up in her room regularly. She hadn’t wanted the mortification and she’d also been trying to get up the courage to tell Chat that she returned his feelings. All of the Adrien photos had gone into the trash except for the Ladybug & Chat Noir themed photo shoot. After the mall, she’d ripped down the photo of sexy Adrien-as-Chat, only to later replace it with indulgent Adrien-as-Chat as he supported the model playing Ladybug as she adjusted her shoe. The newspaper clipping of the real Ladybug and Chat Noir sat on the wall right next to it.

The resemblance between Adrien and Chat Noir couldn’t be more obvious.

Marinette felt like an idiot for never realizing that they were the same person. The whole reason she’d put that modeling photo up on the wall had been because something about Adrien’s mouth and eyes reminded her of the way Chat Noir sometimes got around Ladybug, an expression that made her belly fizz and the corners of her mouth turn up in pleasure. It had been something she’d thought lost to her forever and hadn’t wanted to forget.

A soft tapping on her door roused Marinette from her melancholy thoughts. “Yes?”

Seconds later, her mom opened the door and gave her a careful examination. “Good morning. I’m surprised to see you already up and dressed. Is everything alright?”

“Just having trouble sleeping. Too many thoughts.” Marinette wrinkled her nose with annoyance. “Did you need me to come down and help with the bakery?”

Her mom shook her head. “Actually, our first customer of the day is downstairs and asking after you. I said I’d check if you were awake and ask if you felt up to visitors.” In response to Marinette’s curious look, her mom only gave her a pleasant poker face, not giving anything away.

Giving in, Marinette shrugged. “Sure, send the mystery customer up.” Marinette hoped it was Kenza with news and not that random boy her mom had tried to set her up with before the mall bombing. Then again, at this point, she’d take any distraction from her circling thoughts. After her mom left, Marinette couldn’t help the way her knee started to bounce, shaking the bed as she waited impatiently for her visitor.

After several endless moments, her mother finally returned. Giving Marinette a wink, she stepped to the side, revealing the familiar and well-loved angles of Adrien’s face. Marinette’s bouncing knee froze. Adrien looked sinfully attractive for such an early hour of the morning. Thank goodness she was dressed, but her hair was still flat on one side and a rat’s nest on the other. There was probably dried drool on her cheek and she was sitting barefoot on her bed! Marinette struggled not to start hyperventilating. Mom, the traitor, gave her an encouraging smile and then left them alone with the door propped open.

The sound of crinkling paper broke the increasingly tense silence as Adrien swung a white paper bakery bag nervously in one hand. “My Lady,” he winced, “I mean, Marinette. I mean…,” Adrien blew out a breath, “hi.” After that awkward greeting,he gave her one fleeting glance and then took to examining the carpet and walls.

“Hello,” Marinette answered faintly. _What should she do? It was just Adrien. It was Adrien who’d agreed to date her! But it was also just Chat Noir. It was Chat in her bedroom with bare hands and no mask!_

Shifting on his feet, Adrien’s eyes settled onto the Ladybug & Chat Noir photo shrine on her wall with the flying Tikki plushy flying benevolently overhead. Adrien suddenly leaned forward and examined the photos intently. The silence became electric. Marinette held her breath in suspense.

“Did you know?” Adrien finally asked, his voice vibrating quiet intensity as he gestured at the photos.

“No,” Marinette shook her head and took a deep breath at finally being able to talk, “though I feel stupid now.”

Meeting her eyes, Adrien huffed a breath of laughter. “You and me both. I mean, I’ve known for years that my partner Ladybug and my friend Marinette shared the same intoxicating scent, yet I never made the connection. It had to be the magic of the kwamis and the miraculous that kept everyone from figuring it out. My kwami Plagg’s spell using your stolen luck magic was only around for about a year, so there had to be something else at work from the beginning. At least, that’s what I’ve decided to tell myself and I suggest you do the same to keep from going crazy.  Nothing else makes sense, especially considering it even kept me and,” Adrien’s voice roughened, “my father from recognizing each other.”

Without thinking, Marinette reached out with her one good arm and touched his shoulder sympathetically. Adrien leaned into it for a petting, just like he always had on rooftops when dressed in black. _Her petit minou_. “Come here, kitten.” Marinette ordered softly, trying to hide her nerves as she decided to trust her instincts.

“If you’re going to pull my tail, I’d rather stay over here.” Nevertheless, Adrien slipped off his shoes and crawled up onto the bed to sit next to her. He’d always been brave that way. “So now what?” he asked nervously, giving her a sideways look.

“Now we introduce ourselves all over again,” Marinette decided impulsively, sticking out her hand. “Hi, my name’s Marinette. I used to be the superhero Ladybug, but now I’m retired. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Looking at her with surprise and fondness, Adrien engulfed her fingers in his warm hand and squeezed. “I used to be Chat Noir, the partner of Ladybug, but now I’m working on being just Adrien. And the pleasure is definitely all mine.” Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed her knuckles gallantly.

Surprisingly, the introduction worked. The two identities of the man sitting next to her settled down into one complex personality in Marinette’s mind. Thus settled, she was able to greet Adrien’s gesture with a smirk, hair toss, and mildly pink cheeks instead of incoherent stuttering, a tomato red face, and flails. “Are you trying to impress me?” she asked archly, sending him a teasing look and tugging futilely at her hand.

Looking up at her through his golden lashes, Adrien grinned against her knuckles and then turned her hand over and pressed a kiss to the base of her palm. “Is it working?”

Giggling, Marinette couldn’t help but tug him closer instead of trying to escape. “Yes, you scoundrel.”

Looking thoroughly pleased, Adrien snuggled carefully against her injured side and wrapped an arm around her back. “Is this okay?” he asked. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He cast an unhappy look down at her sling and then up at the new stitches on her brow.

“I’m tough, don’t worry,” Marinette soothed, reaching up to rub away the worry lines on his brow. She’d wanted to do that for years, but never had the courage before.

Smiling shyly, Adrien turned his head and kissed the tender skin on the inside of her wrist. “I know you're tough, but I care too much about you to not worry,” he confessed.

Breath catching, Marinette’s cheeks turned hotter than the ovens downstairs. Emotion fizzed and popped across her skin. Hand slipping down to cup Adrien’s cheek, she looked deep into the green eyes that had defined her days and nights for so many years. Adrien matched her gaze. The space between them crackled.

“I love you,” they both said at the same time, the sounds overlapping each other in a familiar duet. After a beat of mutual surprise, they laughed with delight. Their smiling lips met in a joyful kiss, mouths slipping softly against each other in a new and addicting sensation. It felt like a greeting, the first hesitant step inside a warm house that soon would be a home. Before things could get too intense, they leaned back in mutual accord. Blue eyes met green and they smiled contentedly, both exactly where they wanted to be.

As Adrien shifted, paper crinkled loudly. “Oh, I forgot.” He sent Marinette a look of mock-annoyance spoiled by the way his mouth wouldn’t stop smiling. “I bought something for us downstairs, but someone kept distracting me.”

“I’m not going to apologize for any of that,” Marinette said smugly.

“Fair enough. I wouldn’t want you to and will, in fact, take more of “ _that_ ” any time you’d like.” Winking flirtatiously, Adrien opened the bag and tilted it so she could see inside. “Since we are finally together at the bakery, My Lady, I present you with the long-awaited and promised macarons.”

Smiling besottedly, Marinette didn’t need to look down at the cookies before making her next pronouncement. “You’re perfect.”

* * *

 

"When I said I was excited to finally get a clean bill of health and toss the sling, that didn't mean I wanted to put my good health to the test by cleaning." Marinette blew an unruly strand of her short hair off her nose.

"Now sweetheart, we've put off clearing out this storage closet long enough," her dad said absently as he flipped through a pile of cardboard placards. “With your boyfriend out of town, cleaning is the perfect distraction from your doldrums.”

The sound of rumbling wheels announced the arrival of her mom with two rolling trash cans and stopped Marinette’s snappy retort. Her mom placed them in front of the door and came inside. Hands on her hips, she looked around. "There must be years worth of junk in here. We can use the blue bin for recycling and the other for the garbage."

Picking up a cardboard cutout, Marinette unfolded it curiously. "Wow, you weren't kidding about these being old. We haven't used the Bakery Bear out front since I was in junior high." Refolding the cardboard, she bent it smaller again using her knee and then stuffed it down into the recycling can.

Over the next hour, the three steadily cleared off the shelves in the storeroom. In the back corner, Marinette found another cardboard cutout leaning face-first against the wall. Pulling it out, she flipped it around and stared. "Now that brings back memories."

"What was that, dear?" her mom asked, straightening up from a crouch to put her hands on her back and stretch.

Smiling wryly, Marinette turned the cutout so her parents could see it. "It's our Ladybug Christmas Greeter." Examining the cheerful face behind its red mask, Marinette couldn't believe how young she'd looked. _How had people trusted such a baby-faced superhero?_ "We had her up the year we thought Adrien had gotten kidnapped. We ended up eating at his house with Santa and all my classmates. Remember?" The memory made her feel bittersweet as she thought of Gabriel Agreste’s desperate worry for his missing son contrasted the same night with his choice to take advantage of Santa’s hurt feelings and evilize him as Hawkmoth.

Looking up at her parents, she found them both staring at her in complete shock. Her dad especially looked flabbergasted, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He pointed a finger between her and the cardboard and made a strange gurgling sound.

"What?" Marinette asked, looking between the picture of Ladybug and her parents.

"It's- it's you!" her mom cried, her eyes going so wide they showed white all around the edges.

Like a rabbit, Marinette froze.

"That's impossible," her father muttered feverishly. "We would have known. We _met_ Ladybug. We had the picture up in the bakery for weeks with you standing and singing right next to it."

_Oh no! What was she going to do!? How was she going to get out of this? Her parents couldn't know—wait. Hold on. Hawk Moth was gone. There was no danger anymore. Why shouldn't she tell them?_

"Surprise," Marinette announced with a nervous little wave. Then she said something she'd wanted to say for years. "That’s the reason I disappeared all the time. I'm Ladybug." Finally telling them felt unreal. "Or at least I was until, you know, getting too hurt at the mall to continue. Then to keep mom and everyone else there safe, I had to pass the powers on to a new girl."

Their faces went whiter than flour. Her dad's legs gave out and he dropped to the floor with a thud. "You were really Ladybug? Our little girl the whole time…." His head shook slowly back and forth as if drunk.

Leaning heavily on her husband's shoulder, Marinette’s mom swayed. "How did we not know?" she asked with bewilderment.

Marinette leaned back with her arms crossed, finding their reactions hilarious. But then she thought about their words and felt her smile fade. She had to look away as remembered pain and bitterness spread an oily sheen over her thoughts. "Oh, you know: a combination of luck magic and a lot of lies. It wasn't safe for me to tell you and then the magic made it impossible to say anything, but just so you know, when I disappeared from the bakery or skipped class, I wasn’t getting into trouble. I was fighting to save Paris and keep everyone safe. As for knowing the names of all the cops, it’s because I met them doing my duty, not because I was on the verge of getting arrested. I have a boxful of medals under my bed from the Mayor to prove it.” She gestured upstairs without meeting their eyes. “I know you found me a disappointment and worried about me becoming a juvenile delinquent, but I didn't have any choice but to let you be ashamed of me while I tried to protect everyone from Hawk Moth." Ending on that acerbic note, she finally glanced back at her parents.

They looked stricken. Immediately, Marinette felt guilty. She grimaced. "I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that. Please forgive me."

“How could you have lied to us like that? For years!” Her father’s voice boomed and shook in equal measure. “How could you have put yourself in danger like that?! We’re your parents, the adults! You should have—” At the touch of his wife’s hand, he cut himself off and swallowed hard. Her parent’s looked at each other in a moment of wordless communication.

Suddenly her dad’s posture sagged.Looking down, he put a hand over his eyes. Tears began trickling out. Seeing it made Marinette’s stomach hurt.

After a moment, he roughly rubbed his face and looked up. "No, we're sorry. _I’m_ sorry for making you feel that way," her father said gruffly. Tears soaked into his bushy sideburns. "I am both terrified and proud that you were Ladybug. If it wasn't all over now, I might have a heart-attack. I still might just thinking about my baby girl in danger.” Pausing, he pressed a hand to his chest, looking overwhelmed.

Placing an arm around her husband’s burly shoulders, Marinette’s mom added, “I wish you wouldn't have lied to us so much, and I still don't fully understand why you did, but we’re sorry we hurt you. I’m a bit upset and overwhelmed by this, but we can talk about that later once we’ve all had time to calm down. However, thank you for telling us now and not continuing to lie about it. We've gone through some tough times this last year especially, but we all survived it. We're still a family and we love you. Can you forgive us too?"

"Please?" her father added, holding his arm out for a hug.

Throwing herself into the cradle of her parent's arms, Marinette broke into tears. "Of course! I'm so sorry for the lying and for making you worry. Mom, Dad, I love you guys so much." They hugged her tightly between their arms and began healing.

Then Marinette cleared her nose with a noisy sniff, breaking the moment. Everyone chuckled. Mom leaned back and wiped Marinette's face dry with the inside edge of her sleeve."Our daughter the superhero. You've definitely changed my expectations."  She tapped Marinette’s nose teasingly. "Now you really have no excuse for not cleaning your room. If you could keep Paris safe for years, all the while maintaining your grades in school and working at the bakery, you have no excuse for leaving dirty clothes outside the hamper and fabric scraps on the stairs."

"Or eating the last carrot stick and leaving the empty bag in the fridge," Marinette’s Dad added with mock-sternness.

"Mo-om, Da-ad," Marinette whined.

"Marinette." Her mother’s lips twitched with amusement.

Rolling her eyes, Marinette slid off her father's lap. "On that note, I guess I'll finish cleaning up the storeroom."

"Excellent plan, sweetheart." Her dad stood up with a few muted cracks of popping joints. Wiping his cheeks dry on his shoulders, he helped her mother to her feet.

Without further discussion, the family went back to sorting and cleaning. They’d survived the revelation of her biggest secret and kept on ticking. Smiling to herself, Marinette folded up the cardboard Ladybug cutout and plopped it into the recycling bin.

"Oh, maybe we should keep it?" her father said with a creased brow.

"Why, when we have the real thing?" her mother asked with a sideways smile at her daughter.

Smiling back gratefully, Marinette let Ladybug slide a bit more into her past.

* * *

 

Flopping down onto Kenza’s bed a few days later, Marinette pulled a pillow over her face and groaned dramatically. Kenza, the traitor, laughed. “Come on, Marinette, Adrien’ll only be gone for a few more weeks. It’s not that bad.”

Marinette dropped the pillow to send her friend a scowl. “What do you know? You’re single—”

“Happily so,” Kenza interjected with her nose in the air.

“—and not at risk of being forgotten in favor of a prettier girl with less emotional baggage. My shoulder’s finally healed and now he’s gone!”

Heaving an exasperated sigh, Kenza sat down next to Marinette and patted her soothingly. “It’s exactly because of the baggage that you two share that he’ll still be madly in love with you when he gets back. You know Adrien’s ridiculously loyal. It’ll hurt his feelings if he thinks you’re doubting him. Also, try and remember how awesome you are, Marinette.”

“I’ll try,” Marinette made a face, “but you’re right, Adrien is loyal. He’s wonderful.” Just the thought of holding his hand made a dreamy smile spread across her face.

“Besides,” Kenza added, “Adrien needs to figure out what to do about his dad going forward. This trip and the Mental Wellness Retreat in Switzerland will give them a chance to figure that out. You know things have been in limbo since his dad checked himself out of that clinic in Lyon. Of course, I still think you should have just sent Gabriel to jail and saved us all the trouble.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Marinette looked away. “You said we wouldn’t argue about that anymore. It’s what Adrien wanted. Let it go, please.”

“Fine,” sighing, Kenza crossed her legs under her, “let’s talk about something more cheerful. Like how, SURPRISE! I randomly got you a present.” Leaning off the bed, she grabbed a little pink box off of her desk. “For my sister of the spots.”

Grinning crookedly, Marinette sat up. “What a happy coincidence, I just so happen to have a surprise gift for you, too.” Reaching into her jacket, she pulled out a small yellow box with a lilac bow. “I’ve been carrying it around forever, but I kept forgetting to give it to you.”

Laughing, the two girls exchanged smiles and gifts.

“I love getting presents,” Kenza said cheerfully as she ripped the bow off her box and flung it over her shoulder.

“Me too!” Marinette peeled the tape off the side of the pretty box with her fingernail and lifted the lid. Inside, she found an elegant bracelet covered with lifelike ladybug charms. “Oh, they’re gorgeous!” she breathed.

“Great minds think alike. Thank you so much, Marinette!” Kenza cooed as she lifted her ladybug necklace out of the box and tilted it from side to side to make the ladybug’s wings open and close.

“Spots on?” Marinette suggested with a smile. Kenza nodded in agreement and, without further discussion, they put on their new gifts and stood up to model them in the mirror on the wall.

Glancing at Kenza from the corner of her eye, Marinette asked, “Can I ask you a random question?”

“Sure,” Kenza shrugged.

“What did Tikki whisper to you right before she left?” Marinette asked curiously.

Huffing out a laugh, Kenza reached into her pocket. “She made me lucky enough to never accidentally lose my cell phone again.” Pulling the phone out, Kenza brandished it triumphantly. “Ta da!”

“Now that’s handy,” Marinette grinned.

“Very,” Kenza agreed happily. “So, now that we look fabulous, let’s call a bunch of friends and go hang out somewhere.”

“Not the mall,” Marinette said firmly, shadows springing to her eyes.

“NO! Of course not.” Kenza’s shoulders went up around her ears in mutual trauma.

Shaking herself, Marinette reached out and took her friend’s hand. “Sorry, I forgot for a second who I was talking to. How about miniature golf and ice cream?”

“Sounds good, as long as you don’t go all judgy if I start wrestling Marcel again.” Kenza grabbed a hair tie and pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

Sliding off the bed, Marinette smirked at Kenza over her shoulder. “I wasn’t being _judgy._ I was thinking how cute the two of you are. Marcel totally has a crush on you but doesn’t want to ruin your friendship by saying anything. You should put the poor boy out of his misery and give him a kiss. His feet wouldn’t touch the ground for the rest of the summer.”

“Nooooo,” Kenza’s jaw dropped. Eyes narrowing, she snatched up her pillow and attacked Marinette. “We’re just friends. That’s not true. You take that back!”

Cackling, Marinette dodged and weaved, finally jumping up onto the bed and then leaping over to the top of the desk in an attempt to keep from being hit. Kenza lunged, knocking over her desk chair and a cup of pens with her wild swings. Papers scattered into the air like snow as Marinette accidentally kicked the entire ream of printer paper up into the air.

“Kenza, what in the world is going on in there?! The stampede from _The_ _Lion King_?” Mrs. Bey scolded from outside the door.

The friends collapsed next to each other on the floor in a fit of giggles. “Sorry, mom!” Kenza called breathlessly.

“Sorry, Mrs. Bey!” Marinette echoed.

In response, Kenza’s mom chuckled. “Well just remember go around Mufasa and stomp on Scar instead. I always cry over Mufasa.”

Seconds later, the door popped opened as Laila, Kenza’s little sister, peeked her head in. “Do you have Simba in here?” Laila asked hopefully, her big, babydoll eyes peering into the corners of the room.

Shaking her head, Kenza bounced to her feet. “Nope, just a,” jumping forward, she snatched her little sister up into the air, “RASPBERRY MONSTER!”

As Laila screamed and wiggled with delight, Kenza blew on the toddler’s tummy, making loud raspberry noises. “Again, again!” Laila cried through her giggles and flailing limbs.

Fingering her new bracelet, Marinette reflected on her life. All of the bad things that had happened in the last year had led her to the here and now. She missed being a superhero, but this was her new normal. As laughter rang in her ears, she smiled and hopped up to join the tickle party. She could easily learn to love this too.

* * *

 

Dragging Adrien by the hand, Marinette raced through the gates to their new university. “Come on, slowpoke!”

“There’s no need to run,” Adrien laughed, purposefully slowing down. “Our first classes don’t start for an hour and Professor Ogbore assured you that all the classrooms have more than enough seats for everyone.”

Sticking out her tongue over her shoulder, Marinette let go of his hand to jump up onto a wrought-iron bench and spin around with her hands up in the air. “But we’re finally here! We made it to university! We’re living the dream and we’re together! Doesn’t it all just make you so happy?”

Putting his hands around her waist to stop her spin, Adrien looked up into her face with a dopey smile. “You make me happy.”

Marinette’s face turned bright pink. “Adrien….”

“But there’s just one problem,” he said, injecting hesitance into his voice and looking down.

Threading her fingers behind his neck, Marinette leaned down with real worry. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, it’s silly…” heaving a big sigh, he looked up at her through his lashes.

Marinette dipped closer, tickling his cheeks with her short brown locks. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Unable to keep his lips from tilting up any longer, he whispered. “My girlfriend hasn’t kissed me yet this morning.” Quickly raising his head, he captured her mouth. Marinette melted sweetly into the touch, but as soon as their lips parted, she thwacked him hard in the arm. “Ouch!” Adrien laughed, rubbing his arm to relieve the sting.

Marinette stepped back and put her hands on her hips. “You jerk, I thought something was seriously wrong,” she scolded.

“I just don’t want you to forget about your boyfriend when you meet all of those new university boys today.” Putting his hands in his pockets, Adrien examined the scrollwork on the bench with forced nonchalance.

“Aren’t we a pair?” Marinette said with soft fondness, hopping down to take his arm. “I’ve been worried sick that you’re going to meet someone better than me.”

“Impossible,” Adrien immediately replied. “There’s no such person.”

Smiling, they touched foreheads, creating a private bubble in the midst of the morning student rush. “I love you,” Marinette whispered intimately, her breath puffing warmly across his face.

“I love you,” Adrien replied fervently. “Forever and always.”

They kissed softly and then leaned back to start walking again in perfect harmony. Marinette leaned her head against his shoulder. “I do want us to be together forever, but... I know that sometimes unexpected things happen. However, no matter what, I want you to promise me that we’ll always be friends. You mean too much to me for us to one day drift into strangers.” Hands tightening on his arm, she begged, “Promise me.”

Dropping a kiss on her head, he easily acquiesced. “My Lady, I can’t imagine any circumstance where I’d ever want you out of my life. No matter what happens, even if you leave me to marry a pigeon fancier, I will always be your friend. I’d have to invest in lots of antihistamines because of my allergy to pigeons, but I’d still want to be around you.” Kissing her sweet-smelling hair again, he vowed, “You’re stuck with me forever.”

“Well, good, because I want to be with you forever and always too.” Marinette sighed contentedly. The couple slowly walked in comfortable silence down cobbled paths. Around them walked other students looking by turns excited and anxious.

“So have you decided what to get Alya for her birthday yet?” Adrien asked as they passed the journalism building.

Biting her lip, Marinette gave him a sideways look. “I had an idea, but I wanted to run it by you first.”

“No more American boy band routines,” Adrien insisted quickly. “Nino and I did it the once and that was more than enough mortification to last us for the rest of our lives. You promised!”

Giggling, Marinette told him, “She still has the picture up on her wall. The spandex shirts and matching bandanas really sparkle when she turns on her desk lamp.”

“Marinette,” he groaned, covering his face with one hand in embarrassment. “Have some pity on your poor boyfriend.”

Throwing her head back to laugh out loud, Marinette finally had to stop walking to catch her breath. “Oh, I just had the funniest thought about you guys doing a reunion tour,” she panted, “but that’s actually not what I meant about a gift.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Adrien grumbled good-naturedly.

“Actually, I was thinking of telling her about us,” Marinette said carefully.

Tugging them back into motion, Adrien detoured them around a student rifling through her bag on the pathway. “Sweetheart, I think she knows we’re dating by now. I’m pretty sure you told her as soon as it happened. That and the way you stuck your tongue down my throat after our karaoke duet last weekend was probably a pretty obvious clue.”

“Excuse me, but you like my tongue,” she growled with a cute little blush.

Smiling smugly, he bumped against her side. “You know I do.”

“Anyways,” she cleared her throat, “I wasn’t talking about that. I was talking about finally telling her the truth about our superhero identities.”

“You mean the spots and claws?” Adrien clarified, looking around to make sure they weren’t overheard. It was probably an unnecessary precaution, but he couldn’t help himself.

Marinette nodded. “Yeah, the mystery of Ladybug and Chat Noir’s disappearance has been driving her crazy all summer. She’s almost to the point of making shrines for the superheroes with candles and everything. I would die of mortification if she made us go to some public ceremony. I promise I’ll swear her to secrecy first so nothing would end up on the Ladyblog, but I can’t think of a better gift to give Alya for her birthday than the real truth about Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

“She’s going to be angry,” Adrien fretted quietly.

“Well, yeah, for a little bit,” Marinette acknowledged with a wince, “but then she’ll just be super excited and attack us with a barrage of questions instead of sharp and pointy objects. I don’t want her to kill me if she finds out some other way. If I tell her about me, she’ll guess about you anyways, so please? Can I tell her about us both?”

Adrien gave in. “Alright, but if we’re doing this, we should probably include Nino and get Kenza’s permission too.”

“Kenza already said yes,” Marinette said cheerfully.

Adrien gave her the side-eye. “That confident of my answer, were you?”

“This is your chance to brag about your exploits to your biggest fan. Of course you weren’t going to say no,” Marinette answered with an eyeroll.

Pausing, Adrien thought for a second and then shrugged in agreement. _It was true. Chat Noir was awesome. He had been dying to brag to a better audience than his unimpressed girlfriend._

The bell tower tolled and Marinette squeaked in surprise. “We need to hurry!” Grabbing his hand, she began dragging him forward.

Stretching his legs, Adrien matched Marinette’s pace stride for stride. Years of muscle memory made it impossible to do anything else but stay by his partner’s side. He did it easily, instinctually. If he had any say about it, they would always be this way.

* * *

 

“Marinette, everyone’s looking for you,” Alya scolded.

Kneeling at the base of the billowing white skirt with pins sticking out of her mouth, Marinette sewed frantically.

“Do you really need more ladybugs on that thing? You’re going to be late,” Alya said indulgently.

“I’m ahmos dun,” Marinette muttered past the pins. Tying off the last stitch, she sat back on her heels with a pleased sigh. She threw her sewing supplies back in the box by her side and jumped to her feet.

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Alya laughed from over her shoulder. “Did you really just embroider little cats on the hem of your dress to match the red ladybugs on the bodice? Didn’t you embroider something like that on Adrien’s vest too? You are such a sap.”

Shrugging unashamedly, Marinette dashed for the door. “Okay, I’m ready to go now.”

“Um, Marinette, you’re forgetting something.” Confused, Marinette stopped and cocked her head to the side. Alya sighed with amusement. “You might want to get dressed first, though I’m sure it would give all the guys a thrill to see you in just your slip and underwear. However, considering that even Adrien hasn’t seen that yet, he might get jealous about sharing the new view with everyone.” Shaking her head, Alya grabbed the abashed Marinette’s arm and pulled her back towards the wedding dress.

As Alya buttoned up the back, Marinette’s mom came into the room. “Here you are. I thought you’d be ready by now. Didn’t I already button you into that thing?”

Casting her mother an apologetic look, Marinette explained. “I had to add some more detailing to the skirt so I took the dress off. Sorry.”

“Well, I guess they can’t start without the bride.” Kissing Marinette on the cheek, her mom stepped back and examined her face. Then she grabbed the makeup bag and reapplied Marinette’s smudged lipstick. “There, that’s better. Don’t forget to put on that mystery belt from Adrien too.”

“As scion of a fashion empire, he hopefully didn’t choose something awful,” Alya said, handing Marinette the beribboned box.

Completely confident in Adrien’s good taste, Marinette opened the present excitedly and unfolded the tissue paper. “Aw.”

“Well, let’s see it,” prompted her mother impatiently.

Sniffling to keep the tears at bay, Marinette pulled out the present: a jewel-encrusted Ladybug belt from the launch of the Agreste Jewelry line all those years ago. The belt from the Valentine’s Day fashion photoshoot, in fact. “It’s perfect,” Marinette whispered, wrapping it around her waist and securing the round ladybug clasp.

Next Alya and her mom helped button on the chiffon cape that wrapped around Marinette’s neck and shoulders in the front and extended down to the floor in the back. Her mom secured the veil on her head and stepped back. “Well? How do I look?” Marinette asked nervously, holding her hands out from her sides.

“Like a bride,” Alya deadpanned. Then she grinned. “Just kidding. You look gorgeous, Marinette.”

Tearing up, her mom smiled. “You look beautiful, like a dream. I’m so happy for you, sweetheart.”

“Thank you.” Smiling so hard that her cheeks hurt, Marinette slipped on her high heels. “I’m ready to go now.”

At the door to the chapel, her father took her arm and squeezed. “You look lovely.” Alya signalled and the music started for the wedding party’s entrance. Bridesmaids and groomsmen disappeared through the door and then it was her turn.

Marinette expected to feel nervous, but she wasn’t. She knew this was right. Instead, she felt excited and impatient. Beaming, she stepped confidently through the double-doors into the chapel.

The bridal party blocked her view of Adrien, so she looked around at the guests instead. In the background, she distantly noticed the photographers snapping pictures furiously. Her aunts, uncles, and cousins on both sides had come out in full force to support her. A lot of their friends from High School and University had shown up too. Alya’s and Kenza’s families sat next to each other on one pew. Even Master Fu had come and no one had seen him out and about in years. In the pew on the groom’s side sat Professor Adrien Ogbore and Dr. Carrie Moreau. They’d left half the bench open, but no one had filled it.

Adrien’s father must have chosen not to come after all. Poor Adrien. A private part of Marinette was glad she wouldn’t have to deal with Gabriel Agreste today, but she knew that Adrien had hoped for his father’s approval and support. Only a shell of the man he used to be, Gabriel had chosen to isolate himself and wallow in misery, retreating from the fashion world and his family. In her eyes, he was punishing himself more effectively than any jail ever could. She just wished he didn’t sadden Adrien so much. Hopefully Gabriel would find a way to redeem himself some day.

Glancing forward, she lost track of her thoughts as she caught her first glimpse of Adrien - the love of her life and soon-to-be husband. For a second, she felt like she was fifteen again and daydreaming. Never had Adrien looked more handsome than today. Dressed in an exquisitely cut black tuxedo and black vest with subtle dark green cat embroidery, he wore a contrasting dark red pocket-square and matching cravat. At his neck gleamed the cat-shaped labradorite cravat pin from the same superhero photoshoot as her ladybug belt. It was perfect.

Everything in her world narrowed down to his beloved green eyes. Adrien drank in her approach, tears of deep emotion darkening his lashes. Finally reaching his side, Marinette released her father’s arm with a grateful squeeze, accepted a kiss on the cheek, and then joined Adrien, She took his offered hand and gripped it tightly.

Adrien cleared his throat and whispered reverently, “You look beautiful.”

“So do you,” Marinette smiled, blinking hard.

As one, they turned as the minister began the wedding ceremony. Despite her good intentions, Marinette found her attention drifting from his words. She felt impatient to say, “I do,” and make everything official. Adrien didn’t seem to have the same problem, listening attentively to the minister’s words and nodding along seriously. Finally the minister asked, “Who has the rings?”

“I do!” Kenza gushed, stepping forward with the rings outstretched. Adrien and Marinette had had to compromise and share Kenza, since both had been too stubborn to give her up. As ‘’Best Ring Bearer of Honor,’ Kenza wore a floor-length, sleek black skirt with a ruffled white top and fitted red jacket. “I mean, here they are. They’re the ones who’re going to say, ‘I do.’ Not me. Here.” Beaming with happiness, Kenza passed over the rings and then skipped back with excitement.

The minister smiled benevolently. “Adrien, as you place the ring on Marinette’s finger, please repeat the vows after me.”

Adrien met Marinette’s eyes with a look of complete devotion. Joyful tears trembled on his lashes as he gave her a close-lipped smile. His green eyes gleamed brightly as he said his vows.

“With this ring, I marry you and bind my life to yours.   
It is a symbol of my eternal love,   
My everlasting friendship,   
And the promise of all my tomorrows.

May God bless our lives together

And may we find joy in the Chaos.”

Feeling incandescently happy, Marinette repeated the vows at the minister’s prompting.

“With this ring, I marry you and bind my life to yours.   
It is a symbol of my eternal love,   
My everlasting friendship,   
And the promise of all my tomorrows.

May God bless our lives together

And may Luck bless our days.”  
  
Unable to pull her eyes from Adrien’s beloved face, she distantly heard the minister say, “By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife.”

Cheering, whistling, and clapping filled the room. Smiling , Marinette leaned towards the man she’d just married. “Wife,” Adrien said, gazing into her eyes with joy and contentment.

“Husband,” Marinette replied, so happy she could burst.

As their lips came together, Marinette ecstatically kissed the man at the center of her world and knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was the center of his. Adrien wrapped his arms around her back and dipped Marinette into a celebratory kiss, the first of many in their extraordinary life as a married couple. No matter what came next, they would always have each other, the excitement of chaos, the benefit of luck, and hearts full of love.

_And they lived happily ever after._

THE END

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for going all the way with me. I'd love to hear your thoughts on my story. Cheers!


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